Breaking the Dam
by DoctorJekyll
Summary: Devasted after Kutner's death House finds himself at Cuddy's house in the middle of the night.
1. Chapter 1

**Breaking the Dam**

_I wrote this after last week's episode. This is what I would have liked to have seen happen after Kutner's death. It picks up right where the episode ends._

He didn't want to see anybody. He didn't want to talk to anybody. But he knew he couldn't be alone. His mind would go and go and go. Like a hamster running on its wheel. He would run over the same things over and over until he went insane.

The bike basically drove itself to Cuddy's. Cuddy of all people. She would try to help. Screw it. He was on autopilot. Pulling up in front of her house that late, pulling his helmet off and sitting there, eyes shut against the darkness. The slow painful steps to the front door. His hand basically knocking on its own.

He stood in the dark for only moments until the door swung open. Lisa Cuddy stood before him, pulling a silky bathrobe tightly across the front of her Teddy. Her eyes red and puffy, her hair slightly mussed.

"Greg" she said reaching for his forearm, gently grasping him and pulling him in. "Come in, I've been worried about you. You weren't at the memorial and…"

His head hung down as he stepped inside but when he raised those deep blue eyes to look at her, she stopped talking. House was cold. What emotions he did have he kept bottled deep inside, and as much as she cared about him, she did not want to be the one to pull the lid off tonight. He was wrecked. That much she could tell.

"Come in," she simply repeated and shut the door behind him. "Come on, come sit down." She headed into the living room, and he followed stopping in the doorway.

She looked at him, for a moment, thankful that his head still hung low. She was scared to make eye contact. Scared of what she might see. "House, "she whispered causing his eyes to flick up momentarily, "let me get you a drink." She went to the kitchen and came back with a glass, in the corner on the far end of the room was a liqueur cabinet; she went and pored him some scotch. When she turned around he was sitting on the ottoman, his bad leg stretched out in front of him, his cane leaning up against it.

She walked up and sat on the arm of the chair besides him, and held out the scotch.

"Thanks," he said, reaching for it and taking a long slow sip. Those were the first words he had spoken so far. "I needed that"

They sat in silence for a while, then he closed his eyes and said "I was at Kutners. During the service, I was at his house." She pressed her lips together into a firm line and nodded silently. "I just sat on his couch and…" he trailed off and stared at the glass of scotch before taking a small sip.

She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to tell him that everyone had their own way to grieve; instead she tapped him lightly on the forearm again and said simply, "the service was lovely."

He nodded once silently. He was glad after all that he hadn't gone home to his quiet apartment. He needed the distraction. That's all this was, a temporary distraction.

"House" she said leaving her hand lingering on is arm, "I think you should stay here tonight." She wanted to convince him. Was sure she had to. He couldn't go home to an empty apartment by himself, not tonight. "It's late, you seem tired and upset and…"

He nodded, "Thanks, "he said again cutting her off.

"Okay" she said, getting up "let me get you some sheets and blankets to make up the couch."

She headed down the hall contemplating how lousy he must feel. It surprised her that he had agreed so readily to stay. She had expected him to put up some sort of fight, but was glad when he didn't. She went into the linen closet and pulled out sheets, a blanket, a pillow and a towel. Carrying those in a stack she returned to the living room. He was still in the same spot, but he had taken his coat off, and rested his glass on the coffee table, in his hand was a short stack of pictures.

She set the stack on the arm chair near him and started pulling the pillows off the couch. "Let me get the couch set up for you." She said.

"Don't" House said looking up at her. "I'll do it." He held the pictures out towards her "I took these from his house." He said.

Cuddy sat beside him and leaned forward, "can I see them?" she asked.

He didn't hand her the pictures but instead flipped slowly through them, it was a random selection. He dint even know what made him chose those particular ones. But now that he had them, he wished he had never seen them. Kutner looked so happy. So alive. Why the fuck had he ..?

So, he flipped slowly. Two of Kutner at the beach with a friend. One standing in front of his parent's house with them on either side. One of graduation from college. A couple with is dog. A few goofy ones in a lab coat. Two extreme close ups. The last one his face smiling, but half of it obscured by shadows.

"Greg," Cuddy placed a hand on his knee and rubbed it slowly. "Those are a really nice memory."

He nodded silently and kept staring straight ahead. She could tell he was working hard to keep everything deep down inside.

From the hallway they heard rustling and a slight squeaky sigh. Cuddy stood up and placed a hand on Houses shoulder. "I'm going to go check on Rachel. Do you need anything? Another drink? Help with the couch?"

"I'm all set" he replied, then looking down, "Cuddy……thanks."

Cuddy smiled softly at him before heading down the hallway towards the baby's room. Good for her he though. She has someone to keep her going. Someone to rely on her. Something in her life, other than work, to make her happy.

Down the hall Cuddy entered Rachel's room. The baby was not awake, just rustling around in her crib. She had flipped over onto her stomached and Cuddy reached a hand in rubbing her back slowly trying to make sure that she was completely asleep before turning her onto her back again. Why had he done it, she thought. So much life, so much potential. Why had he done it? What was there hidden deep inside that made him pull that trigger?? Slowly she turned Rachel onto her back, and rested a hand on her tiny chest feeling it rise, hearing the tiny rapid heartbeat underneath her finger tips. His poor parents she thought. Who could stand to lose a child??

Satisfied that Rachel was asleep again she headed out of the room, pulling the door slightly shut behind her. She was headed towards her room, but seeing the light still on in the living room made her want to detour to check on House.

She was glad that she did. When she walked in she found him still sitting in the exact spot, still holding the pictures in his hand. Still gazing down at them.

"Greg" she said softly walking up to him. "Come on, you need to rest a little." Slowly she reached out for the pictures and gently pried them from his hand before placing the on the coffee table. "These will be right here tomorrow." She said.

He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers for a minute before quickly looking away. The Blue so intense, but his eyes were strained tired, fighting back any semblance of emotion. Slowly He stood up and reached down for the pillow at the top of the stack.

Cuddy reached out and took the pillow out of his hand. Slowly she placed it back on top of the stack. She didn't know how to say it; how to do it, what would happen, but she did know that she did not want to turn her back on him. Not when he was like this. For House, this was reaching out. Agreeing to spend the night was maybe even a cry for help. She was nervous, even scared, as she reached out and took his hand turning to guide him down the hallway. "Come on" she said "Come lay down with me."

A hundred quips, a hundred smart remarks. A million nasty thoughts should have raced through his head. But all he did was let her pull him down the hallway into her room. He felt awful. Really awful. A huge lead weight in his chest that he fought to keep down there. Kutner was an ass. He couldn't even pretend to think that way. He had actually liked the guy.

Her room was dark. Lit only by the hallway nightlight. And Lord knows he had wanted to be in this position, dreamt of being in this position so many times. Cuddy pulling him into her room. But not now. Not like this.

He let go of her hand and headed into the bathroom. He peed, washed his hands and face, then ran his hands absentmindedly through his hair and stared in the mirror. Shit, he thought I look like hell. His scruff needed trimming; his eyes had been open for too long, they were red rimmed and exhausted looking. He had to go to sleep. More importantly, he had to make it through this night. No bullshit. No crack in the foundation. He reached in his jeans pocket and pulled out his pills. He popped two and swallowed them down. Pain killer's right? Maybe they would help. At the very least settle him down a bit.

House took a step into Cuddy's room and then froze on the doorway. He knew she had invited him. But he almost couldn't grasp it. She lay in the bed on her side facing him. Her lips pressed together in a grim smile. Her brow furrowed. She was worried about him. He knew it, and wanted to avoid it at all costs. No conversation, no prying, absolutely no trying to get his emotions out.

He limped across the room to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge. She had turned down the blankets for him. She did want him there after all.

He sat with his back to her and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. He took it off and threw it on a nearby chair. He toed off his shoes one by one while he reached down to undue his belt buckle, and unsnap his pants. He stripped down his jeans and socks and threw them onto the chair with his shirt. Then, taking a deep breath he got into the bed.

He lay in the bed silently looking out into the dark. His back to Cuddy. Her back to him. He was tired thank God. Exhausted. Maybe this would keep his mind from going over and over the same details as he had all day. There was no puzzle to solve really. The solving should have been done weeks ago, months ago. It was too late now. He felt that solid lump that he had been choking down for the past couple of days coming slowly undone in his stomach, and he clenched his jaw together and shut his eyes trying to force it back down.

On the other side of the bed Cuddy lay motionless. Paralyzed really. She was sad of course. Stunned and shocked. But now she was afraid, afraid of what House would do. And how she would deal with it. Clearly he would try to hold everything in. That was the way he operated. But he had come here tonight. If not looking for help, at least in search of some company.

Then she heard it. The sound that made her freeze. She closed her eyes and held her breath. She heard it again, a long deep breath with a hitch in the middle. Then another, and another. Beneath her the bed trembled lightly. Without even thinking, without even speaking she turned to face him. His back was to her and he was curled onto his side. She reached a hand out and pulled him to her. "Come here." She whispered softly, pulling him into her arms.

House went willingly. She pulled his head onto her chest and held it there. One hand found its way into his hair, the other gently rubbed his back. He held onto her with both arms wrapped around her waist, and squeezed so hard he thought he would break her. With every hitched breath he held her tighter, hoping to push everything down. Force everything back where it belonged. But that warm body, those soft breasts and the feel of her hands gently holding him, coaxing him. He lay in her arms and let out soft silent sobs. Really it was no more than strained breathing, and some soft shaking. But they both knew what it was, and how hard it was for him to get there.

Cuddy didn't know how long it lasted. But she held him like that silently until they both fell asleep.

_Thanks for reading. All reviews welcome !!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_I was asked to continue with the story. This is it._

Cuddy woke up early. As usual 10 minutes before her alarm went off, and plenty of time before Rachel woke up. This morning things were different and she knew it instantly, the minute her eyes opened. In fact, all through the night as she had drifted in and out of sleep, she had never lost sight of the fact that Dr House was lying in her bed with his arms wrapped around her.

Sure, it had been a platonic night. But seeing House breakdown like that would call for a much more awkward awakening than a night of sex would have. She was lying on her back, on her side of the bed, and House had sprawled over the remainder of the bed with his head on her stomach and his arms wrapped around her lower waist. They had just fallen asleep last night. Her hand in his hair, and on his back. He exhausted probably from a full night of fighting back a surge of emotions. Emotions that he was not now, nor probably ever going to be willing to deal with.

She reached over and shut the alarm before it went off. Then she lay there quietly breathing wondering how on earth she was going to extricate herself from his grasp. And just how they would manage to face each other. Of course she would have no problem facing him. In fact, last night had somehow managed to open her heart a little bit more when it came to House. Obiously she hadn't enjoyed seeing him in so much pain, but she had been glad to have been the one he seeked out for comfort.

Slowly she pulled one arm out from around her waist, and slid herself from his grasp and out of the bed.

She pulled on her robe, then went about the room to quietly gather the clothing that she would need for the day. She shut the door behind her feeling sure that House would want to sleep in, or at least pretend to do so.

Quickly she took a shower, and then putting on her bathrobe went in to get Rachel whom she could hear had started gurgling quietly in her crib.

"Good morning beautiful girl" she smiled, reaching into the crib. She picked her up and held the soft warm body against her chest momentarily before heading towards the changing table. Her baby. Her beautiful little girl. She had come into her life due to someone else's tragic circumstances. A death, abandonment, someone's refusal to accept her. This was her legacy. Had Kutner held onto his past and let it obliterate his future?

She pushed those thoughts out of her head and quickly changed and dressed her daughter. By the time the nanny arrived Rachel had been fed and packed up. With a quick explanation of a sleeping guest, Cuddy arranged for the Nanny to take Rachel out first thing.

She let out a sigh of relief. Now House could take his time getting up and out. She went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then headed back towards the bathroom to get dressed.

Within twenty minutes Cuddy was dressed, blow-dried and made up. The only task left to conquer, was that of waking up House. As worried and apprehensive as she felt, she took a deep breath and headed down the hall to her room. She stood for a moment with her hand on the door. Her memories returned to the previous night. His anger, his grief. The way he had felt in her arms, succumbing to all of those emotions. Yes, it would be hard. But she could face him.

She quietly opened the door to her bedroom. House had shifted since she had gone. Rolled over onto his side, on the opposite side of the bed, facing away from her. She walked over and glanced down, he seemed to still be sleeping. She placed the glass of fresh water on a napkin on the nightstand beside him, and then walked over to the chair where he had strewn his clothes the night before. She picked up his dress shirt and ran her fingers over it trying to smooth out the wrinkles, then hung it over the back of the chair. She found his jeans and picked them up, feeling the pockets for his bottle of vicodin so that she could place it within his reach on the nightstand. She then folded the jeans and placed them on the chair as well.

Silently, House watched her. His blue eyes open against the pillow, watching as she neatened his clothes. Wondering at first why she was searching his pants then filled with a fresh wave of emotion as he saw her take his vicodin and reach towards the night stand, knowing he would need it upon wakening. He quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep as she turned around, then felt the weight and warmth of her body as she sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

Cuddy sat down on the edge of the bed besides House's sleeping form. She looked down at him and felt a surge of sadness. She lifted a hand and tentatively touched his hair. Running her fingers gently along his graying temples before resting her hand on his back. She rubbed his back slowly and whispered "House….Greg, it's morning."

He had been surprised at first to feel her fingers in his hair, then on his back. He knew that sooner or later he had to open his eyes and face her. He didn't want to face her. To see her. To anything. Last night had been a huge mistake. He had come here for what, comfort ? He was a grown man, and he had ended up sobbing into her arms. Cuddy's arms of all people. Cuddy. Cuddy. Now he would have to face her. The kindness, and understanding nods, the wanting to reach out to him. Augh ! Why hadn't he just gone to Wilson's house?

Last night had been her fault after all. Her kindness. Her quiet concern. Her warm , soothing body. How long had it been since he had lain in bed with a woman like that.

"Greg," she called out again now moving her hand to rest on his bare forearm, slowly rubbing back and forth, enjoying the warmth of his skin.

He knew he had to open his eyes. He couldn't lie like this forever. He hated having to face her. Having to face anyone, in fact.

"I'm up ." he said keeping his eyes closed. She lifted her hand immediately. He knew she would. She didn't want to deal with this as much as he didn't , he thought.

"I put a glass of water and your pills on the nightstand." She said. "There's coffee made in the kitchen." Then she paused and placing a hand on his shoulder continued. "Rachel is out with her nanny, so…you can rest a little more…or….come in to work…or…anyway, you'll be alone."She didn't know what to say. Well, she knew what to say, it should be something like "are you okay, let me stay with you a while, I'm here for you, " but of course with House those things were better left unsaid. She could tell by the silence that he would want to forget last night. She, however, was sure she could not.

"Thanks" was all he said, as he opened up his eyes to face her.

Cuddy gazed down at him, making it a point to not seem embarrassed, or heavy hearted, of which she was both, and said "Okay then, I'm headed off to work."

She lifted her hand and placed it on his arm again, wanting to give an awkward parting squeeze. But, before she could remove it House placed his hand on top of hers and held it there. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then opened them and squeezed her hand, before opening his eyes again. "Can I shower here ?" he asked

"Of course" she replied, "anything" surprised that he still held firmly to her hand.

"Okay" he grumbled, releasing her hand and sitting up. "I'll be in today." He rubbed a hand through his hair, then reached for his pills.

Cuddy sat up quickly, and rubbed her hands over her skirt smoothing it. She reached over and took the water handing it to him.

"Thanks." He nodded as he tossed two pills down his throat and took a swig of the water.

She took the glass back, and turned to leave as she saw him flip the blankets back and carefully move his leg to the edge of the bed.

"Let me get your cane." She said and hurried out of the room to the living room where she had left it the night before. She felt oddly embarrassed at the prospect of seeing him in her bed, in his boxers. It was like the morning after, but of course the only intimacy they had shared had been emotional.

She headed into the hallway to find him standing there, outside of her bedroom. He had a hand against the wall for support, and was placing all of his weight on his good leg. His good leg. Muscular and toned, long and well defined. She tried to avoid looking at the scar. The chunk missing from his thigh, the thick disfigured skin stretched over the empty flesh.

He looked up and caught her staring at his leg. As if he hadn't been humiliated enough. "Like what you see ?" he asked flippantly.

"Actually I do." She answered meeting his steady blue gaze with an unwavering one of her own. She handed him his cane, and he grabbed it tapping it twice on the ground, befor looking away.

What am I doing ? What am I saying? "I do like what I see." , she repeated. Deep down inside, she knew, under the antagonism, and bitterness they often shared, she knew that she probably loved what she saw. Especially after last night. House was human after all, she smiled to herself.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Don't do this." He said simply. "Last night, I…"

"Don't explain away last night." She said cutting him off, "Greif can often make people act in a peculiar way Greg, you know that." She stated simply as she took a step forward closing the gap between them.

His eyes never left hers as she placed her hand on his cheek, then leaned forward and up to kiss him gently, but fully on the lips.

"I'll see you at work." She whispered as she pulled away, her hand still on his cheek. His fiercely blue eyes still locked on hers, his breath held tightly in his lungs. Then she dropped her hand turned away, and headed down the hall.

House watched her, frozen, in his boxers and t-shirt, his hand grasping his cane, as she gathered her things and headed out the door.

_Please review. Worth continuing ?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, here's chapter 3. Thank you all so much for great reviews. Fanfiction has become my addiction!_

_Chapter 3_

There would be nothing to say to her House thought as he drove himself to work. He was just going to go about his day. Avoid her if at all possible. Avoid the situation, and the past. I mean, Kutner was dead. He took a gun and blew his own fucking brains out on his bedroom floor. Was there anything else to say? Would something change that? He felt like he did, and no kind words or small kiss from Cuddy would change that. And no talking or crying, or _feeling_ was going to change what Kutner had done either. In fact, he thought pulling into the hospital parking lot; this shouldn't be about any of them _grieving_ it should be about him. Period. The end. He thought to himself as he parked and headed towards the door.

He walked through the doors and into the elevator without seeing anyone, and had almost made it to his office door when he heard Wilson's voice "House! Where the hell have you been?" he called picking up his pace to catch up. "I've been calling you nonstop!"

"I shut my phone off." He answered, his hand on the door handle leading into the conference room. So it starts, he thought. As he opened the door and walked in.

Wilson caught up. "Hey!" he said catching the door with his hand. "I was _worried_. You know, that's how friends feel when someone disappears after the death of….are you wearing the same clothes?"

House walked across the room to the coffee machine, he picked up the empty carafe and then turned around slowly eyeing the room skeptically. "Where the hell is everyone?"

"House," answered Wilson "Foreman took time, and Thirteen joined him. And Taub….well I don't know about him. But…it's the day after the service, and I think …."

"What?" He said meeting Wilson with an icy stare "you think if we stop coming to work Kutner will be less dead ? "

"House…"

"Ohhhh, we'll feel better about him dying."

"House, the time off is not to feel better, it's so that you…we…have a chance to come to terms with…"

"Cut the crap Wilson," House turned his back to him and started messing around with the coffee machine. "I'm not one of your patients. And you're not a grief counselor. I'm here, because I want to be here, or as you would say I'm _ready_ to be here. The only thing I'm not ready for "he said putting the carafe down and heading back towards the door, "is starting this day without coffee. Or my team."

He opened the door and started towards the e elevator. This was absurd, he thought. His whole team was gone. Not that he needed them. For years he had been without a team, and actually, he didn't even have a case. He pushed the elevator button with his cane, and tilting his head back shut his eyes. He could hear Wilson approaching.

"House, you're _wearing_ the same clothes. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes _mom_, just because I'm wearing the same clothes, which I'm not quite sure why you noticed, doesn't mean I didn't get any sleep." He waggled his eyebrows and stepped into the empty elevator. "Know what I mean Jimmy?" He continued pushing the button and hoping this would put him off.

Unfortunately Wilson's hand stopped the door and he stepped inside. "You did _not get laid _last night. Please tell me you were not off with some hooker instead of going to Kutner's service."

The door opened on the ground floor and House stepped out of the elevator ignoring Wilson's question. How could he have even thought for a minute that his friend wouldn't pry?

"I only commented on the lack of correlation between one not changing one's clothes….and lack of sleep." He limped towards the line at the lobby coffee shop and ordered himself a bagel and coffee. "It's on him." He motioned towards Wilson who was still behind him as he limped towards the door.

Wilson quickly took some bills out of his pocket and tossed them onto the counter before turning to follow his friend, who was now heading towards the lobby elevator.

"So," he asked, as he approached House, leaning forward and pushing the call button. "You didn't want to go to the service?"

House turned facing him, and in a sarcastic voice replied "apparently not."

The ride up to their offices was silent. House was annoyed, and Wilson knew that if he wanted to eventually get anything out of him, he should let up. I guess he hadn't really been too surprised when his friend didn't show up for the service. But seeing him show up this morning, in his same rumpled clothes from the day before?

If you want to talk…" Wilson stated simply as the doors opened.

"You'll be the first to know." Responded House sarcastically as he exited the elevator and limped quickly towards his office.

He hadn't so much as taken the lid off his coffee and taken a bite out of his bagel, when the door to the conference room opened and Lisa Cuddy walked in.

"Shit" he mumbled as she approached his office door, and though it was not shut rapped twice quietly before opening it further and peering inside "Can I come in ?" she asked.

"If you have to." He answered shutting his eyes and savoring a sip of the hot black coffee.

She came in and shut the door behind her.

Bad sign, he thought, opening his eyes and looking straight ahead.

"Greg," she said approaching his desk "House, I just wanted to come by and tell you that, there are no new cases, and…the rest of your team took some time, so if you wanted to…"

"If I wanted to stay home _Dr_ _Cuddy_." He answered fixing his gaze on hers "I would have."

"Well," she answered tapping her fingers on his desk lightly, feeling uncomfortable as hell as he glared across at her, his eyes steady and solid. "I just wanted to let you know, so…" she turned heading towards the door.

"You could have called." He stated loudly looking down. "Didn't need to come here."

She turned around and sighed, her large grey eyes filled with emotion. "I wanted to see you. To see how you were doing. Is that so bad?"

"Jesus, Cuddy" he snarked, "what did you expect to find? Me curled up on the floor blubbering like a fool?"

"No," she answered taking a step towards his desk. "Of course not, I just wanted to…"

"Oh, that's right," he cut her off, his eyes narrowing and fixing once again on hers. "You got _that_ show last night."

"Greg…House, that wasn't a show last night, and I just," Screw it, she thought suddenly, she had no reason to grovel in his office. She was his boss. She had just come in to relay a message and check on his status. "I wanted to see how you were doing. That's all." She replied again in a firm voice. "And I am sorry if you feel ashamed about what happened last night. There is nothing wrong with showing some emotion and…"

"And what?" he cut her off angrily and pushed himself away from his desk. "I should have never come to your house Cuddy." He continued, standing up and walking around the desk to face her. "I should have known it would just amount to a pile of shit."

"It's too bad, that you feel that way," she answered trying to remain cool, while inside her, rage and sadness fought over the space in her heart. "Last night was the first time; in a long time that I actually thought you were human."

"Oh please, "he rebutted, taking one more step towards her and lowering his voice "Don't use last night to make me something I'm not."

"What a human being?" She answered, pleading. "Someone who cares?" Her eyes, found his, and she searched deep down inside those icy blue orbs to find any remnant of the House, she had met the previous night.

He took the last step towards her. "But, I don't care. I won't ever care." He said looking down into her eyes.

She shook her head slowly, "don't care about what? About who?" she asked.

He looked down at her. Looked into her beautiful blue-grey eyes brimming with tears, brimming with emotion. He remembered how she had cared for him last night _and_ this morning, never pushing never prying. He remembered lying in her arms. The warmth, the comfort. Her skin, her smell. He thought about all those things, then looked into her eyes and delivered the one word he knew would crush her.

"You." He whispered.

She had fought to hold back tears. Turned and stalked out of his office. He had remained standing for a long, long while. Long enough to make his leg go numb. Then he had headed towards his desk and sat again rubbing his temples and shutting his eyes, wondering why the hell he had just been so nasty to the one person who had cared about him consistently over the years. The one person he knew still had some vestige of love left for him in her heart.

"Fuck it." He said, and knowing the day would end up going from bad to worse grabbed his stuff and headed out the door.

_Thanks for reading . Please keep reviwing. Nothing better than getting them on my B-berry at work !!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all for the awesome reviews !! This chapter is a little bit different, it kind of wrote itself. Hope you all like it. Oh, BTW, hated to do this, but forget "Locked In" ever happened, needed a motorcycle scene myself. Enjoy !_

_Chapter_ _4_

Lisa Cuddy couldn't believe he had said that. That he had hurt her so deeply just like that. As if it was nothing. His blue eyes boring into hers as he watched her crumble. He didn't even have the decency to look away. She had stalked out of his office, barely able to hold it together until she had made it to the sanctuary of her office. There, she had sat on the couch and taken deep breath after deep breath hoping to push back the flood of tears that was quickly making its way to the surface.

Within minutes she rested her head in her hands and wept. It was harder to hold them back after all then to just let them flow. And once she started, everything, everything had tumbeled out.

Kutner, Lawrence Kutner dead less than a week. She walked around still expecting to see his goofy smile, and his rumpled lab bracing herself from time to time when her office door opened expecting to hear news of his latest disaster. He had been the one, she thought, most likely to go the distance with House.

And what about House?

That bastard. He had come to her, to her! And she had taken him in; comforted him, held him in her arms, done everything to make him not feel awkward. And he had crushed her. Sure, he had been hostile towards her before; rude and uncaring, cold and insensitive. But he had never delivered a blow like that one. Never before looked into her eyes with such a cold and intimidating stare and delivered such a line.

"Damn him" she said softly, as a fresh wave of tears overtook her. Damn him, that after so many years he still had this power over her. The power from what? It wasn't from that night so many years ago. The famous night that he referred to every time he wanted to get under her skin. No, though that had been a night to remember, Gregory House young and happy. Cocky, yes. But nothing like now. He had been, so appealing, so brilliant. His whole life, his wonderful future stretched out before him like an empty canvas. Who could have guessed that this is how he would turn out? A mean angry bastard. Alone and determined to stay that way.

She thought about his infraction. The horrible days of him lying in bed with Stacy by his side. Writhing in pain, gripping on to her hand. She closed her eyes, remembering clearly how she had run into the room, grabbed the paddles and placed them on his chest. Jumpstarting his heart, as Stacy stood in the corner, her eyes filled with fear. And she had been afraid of losing him too. So afraid that she had let Stacy make the decision that had irrevocably changed his life. She had let Stacy make a _medical_ _decision_ that she knew he would not abide with. And now her punishment; five years of guilt, looking at his misery. His pain. Five years of looking at what _that_ decision and all of its repercussions had done to him. Five years of thinking about her hand in the slow demise of what had once been Gregory House.

Maybe that's why she held on so tightly. Still dared to see hope where others saw none. She _had _felt a small sliver of the man she had known come out now and again. For every time they had exasperated themselves arguing to the point of exhaustion, there had been the times where simply found themselves sitting on the floor in some hall, on some step their argument turning into soft laughter. Then he would duck his head down, and raise his blue eyes in a smile, almost afraid to let a ray of happiness seep out.

And for every time he had been an undeniable ass, a heartless bastard. There had been a handful of times that he had been so warm, so caring. The twenty year stretch of their friendship, so easy to see in his actions, so easy to hear in his words.

She had, in fact wanted him to be a donor for her fertility treatment. She had almost asked him, but had been afraid. Not that he would say no, but that he would say yes. That she would have a part of him, such a very big part of him but not the rest of him. That she would have his child, and would have to spend her life being reminded of what could have been. A genetic link that would be stronger than any emotional link he could provide.

There had been a moment of hope after losing Joy. But that kiss had meant nothing to him. Oh, well, she knew his game. The kiss had meant enough to mean nothing. Enough to make him push her away. And last night? Had that scared him into being so cruel today, was he so afraid to open up and let her in that he would do that to her? Or, was it just the truth. The five years after Stacy left giving him plenty of time to build an impenetrable wall around his heart. Any show of kindness viewed as the enemy.

There was just so much between them. Twenty years worth. Twenty years, yet she could spend a lifetime trying to dissect his feelings towards her. She knew how she felt. How she had felt anyway. But now, after last night, after today how could she…?

Enough about Gregory House, she thought, I have a hospital to run. Slowly she pulled herself up from the couch and went into her bathroom. She washed her face and placed a cold wet washcloth over the eyes to try and alleviate some of the swelling and redness caused by the crying. She would have to wait a few minutes before fixing her make-up. She looked like a wreck. And felt even worse.

House drove quickly and aggressively, weaving in and out of cars in traffic until he reached a stretch of open road. Then he floored it, felt the surge of the engine between his legs, the pull of acceleration on his arms. He ducked his head in and accelerated some more, leaning into an approaching curve. The speed giving him the limber agility he once possessed within his own body, the freedom to move like he used to. The freedom to just be, instead of being a slave to pain and pain killers, a cripple. Stacy had turned him into a fucking cripple, and then left him. Sure he had pushed her away. Who the hell wouldn't have? She ruined his fucking life, and Cuddy let her.

Cuddy. Cuddy. Cuddy who still held onto some hope that he wouldn't be a heartless bastard every chance he got. Cuddy, who could keep an entire hospital under control, but couldn't manage to control her own feelings when it came to him. Jesus, he thought, every emotion she felt ran right through her eyes. He knew full well what he had done to her today.

He picked up speed approaching a long stretch of curvy road; he enjoyed the almost musical rhythm of leaning down then up then down. Maybe this was too much speed, too much recklessness after a night of barely any sleep, scotch and vicodin. But this, this is how you pay tribute to a friend who died. You don't sit in a church or look at his body in a casket. You fly.

Here's to you Kutner he thought, just before the deer ran across the road. He hit the brakes and commenced the longest most incredible fishtail of his life. Off to the left, the right, back and forth and he held it up, would have held it up until the very end that is, but he nicked the deer with his front tire, and the slight impact, sent him and the bike skidding down across the stretch of empty road. The loud screech of metal against pavement the only sound he could hear.

"Ohhh fuck." He uttered when the bike finally came to a stop, pinning his right side underneath it, his thigh screaming in pain. "Fuck." His hands shook as he tried to remove his helmet. His leg, his leg that could hardly bare to be touched was jammed in between his bike and the pavement. He struggled, using his upper body, and his good leg to pull himself out from underneath. He examined his bike first, not so, so bad he thought. The foot peg and handle bars had taken the brunt of the fall, protecting his leg, and the gas tank. Each of which had taken a slight beating, but really, it could have been worse.

He looked down at his side, his jeans and leather jacket had held up all right. But his right hip where his jacket had ridden up was scraped raw, the blood already seeping into the waistband of his jeans. His right forearm, where the sleeve had been snagged and shredded by the skid was also raw. A large raw patch, embedded with small particles of pavement. "Shit" he thought, inhaling deeply, this was gonna hurt like hell to clean out. He picked up his battered helmet, and limped dragging his throbbing leg to the side of the road.

It had been a young mother who had pulled over first. And in a flurry "oh my God's" she had called 911, before her feet had even hit the pavement. He had been annoyed, shaking his head and telling her, he just needed a hand getting his bike up and out of the road. But, within minutes of arguing with her, he knew it was pointless. She had already called, she would not help him with his bike, and his leg hurt so much he could no longer stand. So he had simply given in to the pain and leaned up against her car waiting for the sounds of a siren.

The ambulance arrived quickly and the paramedics jumped out jogging towards him. "I found him on the side of the road." The young mother said, running up to meet him... "He seems to be in a lot of pain, he's argumentative and…"

"Hey, hey" he raised his hands. "I'm a doctor."

"Okay, okay. "The paramedic said approaching him and pulling out a small flashlight to test his pupils. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Yes I can tell you my name." He snarled, his anger causing his muscles to tense sending a shooting pain up his leg. "I am Dr Gregory House." He said between ragged greets. "Head of diagnostics at PPTH." I have a previous injury to my upper right thigh." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Listen," he continued slowly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "My ID's in there. If you need to take me anywhere, take me to my hospital will ya?"

The paramedic called out House's info to his team-mate, who within less than a minute had received confirmation from PPTH.

"All right, listen, doctor or not, we have to follow procedure, so can you make it over to the ambulance, or…"

Within minutes, House was settled into the back of the ambulance, heading over to the ER, of the hospital he had left not long ago.

Inside the hospital pagers were going off one after the other, Chase, Wilson, Cuddy. DR Cameron, head of the ER had received word of an ambulance on arrival carrying Dr House. Quickly she had sent out the pages, and picked up the phone to call Dr Cuddy.

"Dr Cuddy," she spoke into the receiver "It's Cameron. I just sent you a page. I received confirmation of an ambulance on arrival bringing House. He's not bad off, his stats seem fine, but I thought you…"

"I'm sure the ER staff will be more than able to handle any injuries Dr House may have incurred." She cut her off quickly and coldly. "Thank you for your call Dr Cameron." She placed the receiver back down on her pone and leaned back in her chair, not sure, how much more of this she could handle.

_Thanks for reading. All tips and reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated !! Love to hear the ping-ping of my B-Berry as they come in!_


	5. Chapter 5

_****Don't know what happened. I'll try again.******_

_Okay, thank you all so much for the reviews !! This chapter was pretty tough to write, lots of transitions and jargon. I hope you all like it !!_

_Chapter 5_

James Wilson received the page, and called quickly down to the ER. "What?!" he spoke into the receiver, "I was just with House, a couple of hours ago! Okay, Okay, I'll be right down." Now what the hell had House gone and done he thought. He had come in this morning tired and cranky, still in the clothes from the day before. He had stuck around for what, coffee and a bagel, before going out and crashing his bike.

He headed down towards the elevators, making a quick detour by Lisa Cuddy's office. He was sure she would have been the first one to receive the page, but still, if she had not left yet they could head down to the ER together.

Strangely, the blinds on her glass fronted office were pulled shut. He rapped twice on the door, and cracked the handle "Cuddy?"

"Yes? Oh James come in." she said, her voice sounding strained.

"Hey, did you get a page from the ER?" He asked as he walked in the door. "Apparently House was in an accident, and is coming in….Lisa, are you okay?" He had finally gotten a chance to look at her. And though she was sitting at her desk engrossed in paperwork, her eyes were red rimmed and swollen.

"Yes." She answered, looking up pen in hand. "Yes I am." She offered no further explanation, and the tone in her voice warned him not to look for one.

"Well?" He stood waiting, "Are you going to come?"

"No" she answered quickly, returning her attention to the paperwork on her desk. "We have plenty of trained doctors in the ER who can handle House. And besides, "she looked up, "I have no reason to go running, every time he gets himself into trouble."

"O-kay" he answered, his mouth remaining open in shock. Lisa Cuddy of all people was the one he expected in the ER. Everyone knew that House drove her crazy, but there was no denying that she had a soft spot for him. And, it's not like he had just "gotten himself into trouble" for Christ sake, he had been in an accident; he was being brought in by ambulance! "I just thought you might like…"

"Well," she cut him off. "You thought wrong."

He stood there a moment frozen in shock.

"Is there anything else?" she asked waking him out of his reverie. "I'm swamped here." She continued pointing towards her desk with the pen, before returning her gaze to the papers strewn across it.

"No, no, sorry." He answered, turning to head out the door "I'm just heading down there."

"James, "she called out softly as he was getting ready to shut the door. "You'll let me know if there's anything…."

Now what the hell was that all about, he thought, as he strode towards the elevator? She had practically thrown him out of her office. And she was staying in her office to do paperwork? Yet, she wanted him to keep her posted…..something was up. He rubbed his chin stepping into the elevator. Something was up.

Down at the ER, Dr Cameron was worriedly awaiting for the arrival of her ex-boss.

Within minutes an ambulance pulled up, and two paramedics had him out reclined on the gurney, and heading towards her through the Emergency Room doors.

"Patient is a 49 yr old male, Dr Gregory House. Blood pressure 120/80, pulse is normal, pupils reactive, he has 2 large 2nd degree abrasions covering the right side of his body, he is complaining of severe pain from a previous medical…."

"Hi Cameron." He said, smiling through gritted teeth, his large blue eyes opening to stare into hers.

"Oh House," she answered softly gazing down at him, her eyes filling with emotion. "Ok guys." She continued, looking up, and taking the gurney from the paramedic "He's one of ours; we'll take it from here.

By the time Wilson arrived at the ER, the paramedics were gone, and House had been moved to his own small room, where he sat on the bed arguing with Cameron. His coat was off, his arm was a bloody mess, and the waist, and upper thigh of his jeans was covered with blood.

"Goddamn it Cameron," he gasped, "give me some meds!"

"House, "she pleaded "I need to get a look at your leg, I need to know what we're dealing with here before…"

"I'm in pain!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the small metal table besides the bed.

Cameron almost jumped out of her skin. After years of working with him, she had seen him pissed off, and she had seen him in pain, but this combination of the two was rather frightening. He was breathing through his nose, his mouth clamped shut, and staring at his fist on the metal table. "I'm in pain Cameron." He repeated.

"I know, "she answered regaining control of herself, and placing a hand on his shoulder, "I need to get those pants off you to see what we're…"

"For fuck's sake!" he shouted, his hands trembling as he went for his buckle.

Before she could say or do anything there was a quick knock on the door, and Wilson stepped inside. "Jesus, House," he said, "Take it easy on her; I can here you from outside."

"Tell her to get me some PAIN KILLERS!" he replied and I'll take it easy."

Wilson picked up his chart and quickly flipped through it, as Cameron filled him in. "He won't let anyone start a line, his _right _side is caked with blood; he won't let me see what's under his pants…"

"Believe me," he whispered "I'll let you see what's _under_ my pants."

She glanced briefly at him before continuing, "I'm concerned about the size and degree of the abrasion, as well as the possibility of bruising or clotting around the scar tissue…."

"It's road rash for fuck's sake!" he shouted again, still fumbling with his button fly.

She glanced at him then back up at Wilson, "I know he's in a lot of pain, but I have to follow some level of procedure here and…"

"Okay, okay" Wilson answered glancing over at House, "get me a sheet to cover him up with and an IV line, I'll help him out of the pants."

Cameron stepped outside, and Wilson reached over to House's fly. "Got those buttons or?"

"Get off Wilson" he replied under his breath "Goddamn pansy."

"Even when you're in pain House" smiled Wilson shaking his head from side to side.

"Especially when I'm in pain," answered his friend "Now come on," House reached out one hand and braced one on the bed beside him "give an injured gimp a hand will ya".

"Here, let me get these first," said Wilson, leaning down and pulling House's sneakers off. "You don't want your pants pooled around your ankles do you?" He knew this was embarrassing the hell out of his friend. He had already been in a rotten mood this morning. Something had set him off to leave the hospital so early, and now…well Jesus, having him there pulling his shoes and pants off for him. Thank God Cuddy hadn't come down here after all. If there was one thing House couldn't stand, it was being helpless, and right now, that's just about all he was.

House hissed in pain as Wilson helped him ease his pants down over the large bloody patch that covered his hip and upper thigh.

"Nice one," commented Wilson taking in the large abrasion, and bruising that went around and under the edge of his scar. "You're leg looks great."

"Screw you." House answered as he gingerly lifted himself back onto the table in his boxer shorts.

There was a quick knock on the door and then Cameron returned; she blushed slightly, at seeing her former boss, sitting on the bed in boxers, a t-shirt and socks. She handed him a folded hospital sheet, which he opened up and placed over his groin smirking, then she took his arm, and proceeded to start an IV. "I figured you would rather I do this, than an ER nurse," she said as she swabbed his arm.

"You got that right." He answered closing his eyes as she pushed the needle in. "Very good Dr Cameron," he said looking up into her eyes, "first try….now forget the saline and get me the good stuff."

"Nice try," she answered "I need to get a look at your leg. Can you lie down?"

"Anything for you," he answered through grimaced breaths as he eased his leg up on the bed before laying back.

"Jesus House," groaned Wilson.

Dr Cameron pulled the light down over House's leg. It was a very bad abrasion, 2nd degree for sure. Some parts looked worse but she was confident it would heal without any grafting. Luckily his scar was intact. That skin would definitely not have been able to regenerate on its own. But, there was some dark bruising around the edges of the scar that worried her.

She looked up consulting with Wilson, "I'm concerned about this area here" she said lightly brushing the edge of his scar with her finger, a feather light touch that still had the ability to make him flinch. "There seems to be some deep bruising, I'm worried about a clot, and with the level of tissue damage…"

"We could get a scan and keep him for observation," suggested Wilson.

"What?" House said attempting to sit up. "There's not going to be any observation, because there's not going to be a clot, there's not enough thigh left for a clot to form!"

"House," Cameron interjected "you know that there is always a risk of clotting after a severe trauma, and with the state of your leg, I feel that…"

"NO!" he interjected, "Now give me the drugs."

"Look, I know you're in pain." She continued, starting an injection into his IV line. "So, I'm going to give you a small morphine push to make you comfortable while I clean out those abrasions. But then you're either admitted, or you're going home with Ibuprofen."

"Ibuprofen! Are you out of your mind ?" he argued laying back and closing his eyes as the warm tingly rush of numbness flowed through his body.

"Oh, and by the way," she grinned bending over his hip and looking down at his boxers which were now drenched in blood and starting to stick to his scrapes. "These either come off, or I cut this side."

He looked up at her with dreamy blue eyes; the morphine running through his veins taking the edge off absolutely everything. Kutner, Cuddy, Cameron. He smiled up at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat. No matter, how much she loved Chase, no matter how much of an ass he was, a smile like that from Dr Gregory House was enough to stop her heart. He raised a hand and placed it over hers. "Take 'em off!" he smiled "take 'em off!"

"Oh Jesus," chuckled Wilson reaching into his pocket for his cell phone so that he could call Cuddy and fill her in. He felt pretty confident that with this buzz House would opt to spend the night here getting high, versus going home on Ibuprofen. "This is going to be a one long night."

_Please review. And any suggestions towards length and direction are welcome. First chapter story EVER written ! Oh and BTW I do love the ping ping of reviews on my B-Berry. Nothing better !!_


	6. Chapter 6

_***Okay, sorry ! I was away on spring break and had NO internet service. This chapter was really hard to get going. I guess I am not good at stop and go writing. Augh ! And every time I post a new chapter, somehow chapter 1 goes up !!! Maybe I should stop posting at 2 a.m. :)_

_Chapter 6_

Before the Morphine, before the wonderful slide into the thick lush, hush of a narcotic high, House had to deal with the here and now. And that had proven to be agonizing, both emotionally and physically.

He had to have his best friend take his shoes and pants off for Christ sake, his own hands shaking so much he could barely undue his button fly. He had to lie down, in his boxers and have Cameron, beautiful, young, and ever caring Cameron examine his scar. He never even let people see the thing, much less examine it. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed or sensitive about the scar _itself_. It was the range of emotions in others that the scar usually set free. He could already see a change in Cameron. The way she examined his scar, the way she looked at him after. Both actions were so soft, so gentle, an understanding, sympathetic look washed over her eyes. That is what he hated most about that damn thing. In one word, PITY, because that's all it was.

Finally after much deliberation with Wilson about bruising, and clotting, neither of which would likely happen, she agreed to the Morphine.

And now He was laid out on a gurney, a sheet around his waist, in agony. He closed his eyes. The pain was almost unbearable, but he had to stay in control, he had already lost it on Cameron once. He could tell she was being as gentle and careful as possible. Her fingers, barely a feather light touch as they grazed the area surrounding his scar.

Yet, even with the Morphine, trying to lie still while Cameron moved on to the task of irrigating and cleaning out the approximately 12 inch long abrasion that went from above his hip to his upper thigh was next to impossible. How the fuck was he going to put on pants, he thought. The scrape hurt like hell, and what she was doing to it, was pure torture. Sure, the Morphine took the edge off, and _if_ she had given him enough he would be dozing off by now. But, the pain of his thigh, plus the blow, from the accident, combined with what she was inflicting now, he needed more than just the edge taken off.

Lisa Cuddy stayed up in her office. Despite the fact that she couldn't focus on a single piece of work, despite the fact that every single ounce of her body wanted to push through those office doors, and run to the elevators, she did not move. No matter how much he had hurt her, and no matter how furious she was, there was simply no way that she could force herself not to care.

All she really wanted right now was to be down in the ER, and be the one taking care of him. "I'm so pathetic." She thought, resting her head in her hands. I mean, how the hell could she manage to still feel anything for him after what he'd done? Yet, despite all reason, she did. And, despite all reason, she wished it was her, instead of Cameron, administering the care down in the ER. And, more than anything she wanted to know _needed_ to know that he was alright.

Her phone rang, and she placed her hand on it, forcing herself to let it ring twice before picking up.

"Hey, it's me." She recognized Wilson immediately, and was relieved that he had finally called.

"Yes." She answered, doing her best to keep her voice, calm and uninterested.

"I'm down here with House. He took a spill on his bike. Nothing major. "He paused for a moment. "He has two pretty large abrasions, one on his arm, and one on his leg, his _right_ leg…" He paused again, waiting for Cuddy's reaction, and when there was none continued. "Cameron is concerned about the possibility of clotting; his leg is pretty banged up. She wants to keep him overnight for observation."

"Okay." She said. "Thanks for calling."

Wilson hung up. Something was going on he was sure of it. Lisa Cuddy came running no matter what House did. And, he knew that she carried a small amount of guilt, and a large amount of concern regarding his leg. There was no way she would ignore this trip to the ER unless something had happened between them. Hmm, he thought, House in the same rumpled clothes; Cuddy, red rimmed eyes, and a refusal to come down. Could they have ?? Did House and Cuddy actually ?? No, he smiled to himself shaking his head, no way.

By the time Wilson walked back into the exam room Cameron was done bandaging both House's arm and leg. She was taking off her gloves and heading out as Wilson opened the door. "I'm going to step out for a minute." She said softly.

House opened his eyes momentarily, and a wave of diapointment flitted across them before they closed again.

Wilson waited until Cameron stepped out. "She's not coming down." He said "You can stop looking for her."

"What?" House's voice cracked, as he roused himself slightly "who?"

Wilson leaned back against the door. "Cuddy…..Did you sleep with her?"

"What?!" Now both his eyes opened "No, Jesus, no!" He pushed himself up to sitting. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you obviously did something to her. She's up in her office, eyes all red, refusing to come down. What the hell did you do to upset her?" He asked

"I didn't do anything." House replied, letting his eyes close again. "And besides, what makes you think that me sleeping with her would piss her off?"

"I didn't say she was pissed, I said she was upset." Wilson stuffed his hands in his lab coat pockets, he knew House was on Morphine, now was the perfect time to pry. His defenses would be down. "Her eyes were all red, like she'd been crying." He continued

House remained silent. He knew he'd been a bastard. And, he knew what he had said would hurt her, he just hadn't thought of her sitting in her office and crying. Hadn't taken the time to picture her, with her head in her hands, shoulders rising and falling, stiffeling sobs because, after all, she was still at work. And, to Cuddy work always came first.

"Shit," he said groggily, running a hand through his hair before laying back down. His mind filled with images of Cuddy, her curls, her eyes, her lips, her tears. He closed his eyes and let himself succumb to whatever Morphine was left in his system. It was doing wonders on his leg; maybe it would work a little magic on his heart too.

Wilson stared. He could tell House was drifting, drifting and dreaming. Though, something about what he had said had upset House. That, he could tell. House had upset Cuddy plenty of times. Made her cry even, out of frustration and despair, but he never reacted like he had this time.

He walked up to the metal tray in front of his sleeping friend, and signed off the name Gregory House, on all of the admittance forms. Lord knows House had forged _his_ name plenty of times.

It was early evening by the time they had House moved up to a room. He had been furious with Wilson of course, accusing him of forgery, as he struggled to get on his feet, attempting to prove to everyone, that he was well enough to go home. But, the previous night's alcohol and lack of sleep, combined with a full day on an empty stomach, a motorcycle crash, and the morphine….House found that he could barely stand. Reluctantly, he had conceded. Now, as the sun was setting, he lay back in his hospital bed thinking, "This isn't so bad." He had a full belly, he was comfortable, and Cameron had just administered another, dose of Morphine.

The only thing, the only thing that bothered him, was Cuddy's refusal to come down and see him. He had known she would be hurt and angry. That's why he had said it. O_bviously_, it wasn't true. Even he knew that, and he was a master at hiding and convoluting feelings. He had just assumed that she would have folded by now.

He had wanted to push her away. He had fucked up. Kutner's death had affected him. It had made him reach out. And, god, she had been so sweet, so warm….he had just melted in her arms. And, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. About how it had felt to be enveloped in someone's arms like that, to have someone care so much about him. And, what if? What if, he had let her in? Wrapped his arms around her when she came into his office today, thanked her, kissed her, and gazed into her eyes; He knew that's all it would take. One kiss, one solid, unwavering look, and she would crumble.

But then what if? What if, _he_ fell for her? He smiled as the warm lull of the Morphine, started affecting his reasoning. "_What if he fell for her?" _He thought to himself smiling_, _for once he was doped up enough to realize, he _had_ fallen for her!

What if?

What if?

What if?

A million "what if's" and House drifted off to sleep.

Cuddy had waited long enough. She couldn't bare it any longer. She had sequestered herself in her office for the past 5 hours, afraid to leave. Knowing full well, that once she opened that office door, there would be no stopping her emotions. She had answered calls from Wilson and Cameron in a cool and detached way. And she had tried, tried but not succeeded, in taking her mind off him.

But damn it, she thought, five hours was enough. Grabbing her bag and coat, she headed out her office door. She was the Dean of Medicine. He was a department Head, after all. She had to sign off on his chart. How would it look if she didn't? She would just peek inside the door, or look through the glass, read the chart herself, go over it with a fine tooth comb, then sign her name next to Cameron's and leave. Go home. Have a cup of hot tea. Hold her child.

That is the reasoning that kept her going, almost jogging towards the elevators.

At the nurse's station, she slowed. Approached briskly and asked for his chart. Everyone knew Dr House; he was a nuisance and a pest. No one doubted her demeanor.

She flipped through the pages and asked "Dr Cameron was just here?"

"Yes," the nurse answered "she checked all the vitals herself, re-examined the wound, and administered pain meds. He should be out for a few…"

"Thank you," she responded quickly placing the chart back on the desk "I'll go check on him myself." Quietly she slipped into the darkened room.

And there he was, the object of an entire day's worth of wanting and frustration. Her heart skipped a beat. He laid on his back, slightly inclined, his hands at his side. His eyes shut his breathing steady. The shades were drawn, the TV was off. There was no doubt in her mind that he was asleep.

She approached the bed, and studied his face closely. He seemed relaxed, but not at peace. The deep creases still remained intact, even in his sleep he was thinking, this she could tell. He still had the too long stubble, the rumpled look of someone who had not been sleeping.

She examined his arm, gently lifting up the gauze to peer inside. It seemed a standard, if not bad case of road rash. Then she gently lifted the sheet up, folding it back and laying it across his left side. She slowly pulled back his hospital gown, being careful to expose only his leg and his thigh, not his nakedness underneath.

The sight of his leg made her breath catch in her throat. Of course she had seen his scar before. She had practically put it there. And she had witnessed a lot of the slow torturous healing process. But, tonight it was different, his scar was intact, but the skin around it was a deep purple, which seeped under the edges of the malformed skin. And, from the top of his scar, stretching all the way up above his hip bone was a dressing which covered just about one of the worst asphalt abrasions she had ever seen. Cameron had recently examined the dressing, but Cuddy lifted the edge of the gauze to make sure things were in order.

"Oh House" she whispered under her breath, replacing the dressing and reaching out to gently probe the area around the scar. She touched lightly, her finger tips barely breezing over the marred skin, but she saw him flinch slightly, and afraid to disturb him, she stopped and reaching down began to arrange his gown, and blankets back over his body

House's eyes flitted open for a second. He gazed at her dreamily. She had come after all, he smiled softly, she had come to see him.

"Lisa" he whispered.

Her hand froze above the sheets. With trepidation she looked up, her eyes locking with his. She had been caught in the act, she thought. Caught in the act of caring once again.

She placed the sheet down on his chest and began to pull away, knowing he would awaken and remember this fleetingly as a dream, if at all.

"Don't" he said, barely a whisper, as he reached down and took her hand in his, holding it down onto his chest.

His eyes were still on hers as they slowly closed. "Don't go." He whispered.

"Go to sleep House" She answered in a whisper, pulling her hand out from under his, and rubbing it in slow deliberate circles on his chest. "Shhhhhhh" she continued, rubbing slower, feeling the warmth of his chest, through the thin fabric.

She looked down at him. Twice in the past 24 hours she had seen him in his most vulnerable state. And this did nothing more than fuel the fires in her heart. Despite everything that had happened, harsh words, hours of tears, she wanted nothing more than to lie beside him and hold him in her arms again. To touch him, to help him, to let him see once and for all that he didn't have to go through everything, go through life, alone.

Feeling certain that he was once again asleep, she raised her hand slowly.

He caught it in his again, this time pressing it firmly above his heart. She could feel the strong steady beet beneath her fingers as she looked down to meet his eyes, open once again and fixed directly on hers.

"Stay with me ." His voice still a whisper, but without the dreamy quality it had held moments before.

His hand stayed above hers, warm and heavy over his heart. "Please ?" He asked, as his eyes slowly closed again.

_Please don't forget to drop a line. I promise, the next chapter will come up faster ! The reviews are my muse ! Ping Ping Ping_


	7. Chapter 7

_***Thanks so much for all the great reviews !! This chapter just flowed out on its own. Hope you like how I try to get inside their heads. (Cuddy, easy. House…so hard)_

_Chapter 7_

Cuddy had stayed with him for an hour or so. Waited until his breathing had become deep and steady again, until the pressure of his hand on hers became more of a dead weight than a deliberate grasp. Then slowly, she had pulled her hand out from beneath his, gathered her belongings and slipped away.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel on the way home. They were almost shaking, and she took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm her nerves.

These past 24 hours had been too intense. No one could handle an emotional roller coaster such as this one. Past 24 hours?? The past four days. Kutner's death had shocked everyone. Then slowly the shock had turned to sadness, disbelief, anger even. Anger at who? Him, herself, anyone who didn't notice, Kutner for not having pulled himself together, for doing the unthinkable.

And then, before she had even had a chance to pull herself together House had come into the picture. Five long years, she had played cat and mouse with him, wanting to be with him, but realizing full well that he was toxic on every level. And now, with her emotions raw and unprotected, he had been able to sink his claws into her heart.

And he had used her! No surprise there. But she had let him. _That_ had been surprising. Had she been so afraid? Afraid that Kutner's death would give him some ideas. He was too damn cocky and proud to ever think that way. But, who knows, maybe seeing a long empty road ahead of him would eventually take its toll. Not that he would pull the trigger. But he could slide back down into the pit he had been in after Stacy left him, and she wasn't sure that he had the strength to crawl out of there again.

He was so damn afraid of wanting anyone, needing anyone, that all he could do was use people when he was desperate, and then keep them at arm's length. He had come to her when he needed comfort. But then again, who the hell could he have gone to? A hooker, Wilson? There was no one left in his life. He had successfully pushed everyone away.

This was ridiculous she though, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of her hand as she negotiated the streets of Princeton. She was an adult, a single mother, the Dean of a Major Hosptal, and a doctor, she couldn't let these emotions run her life as they had all day. She had accomplished nothing today, nothing except putting up floodgates in her heart.

He had successfully managed to make her fall in love with him. And she was ready, ready and willing to give him everything. But, she could not, would not let him use her again. Whether he seeked comfort or care, he could no longer find it in her arms if it was only going to be followed by cruelty. Now that he had found a way into her heart, the pull and push was just too painful, and she would not let it happen again.

She pulled into her driveway and shut off the car, sitting inside for a moment, thinking in the dark. Satisfied with her resolve, this is it, she thought. The games are over. He can take me or leave me, but he can no longer do both.

And with that thought giving her the strength she needed, she opened the car door and started heading inside; inside to Rachel, her daughter, her warm bundle of true unconditional love. She would hold her against her chest, and let all her feelings pour out unchecked. Rachel deserved everything, all of her. After a day like today, nothing would mend her heart like the feeling of a warm little body in her arms. She opened the door smiling as she was met by squeals of delight.

Inside his hospital room House lay awake, his eyes still closed, his hand still over his chest. He had known Lisa had been there. At first he had thought it had been nothing more than a narcotic based fantasy, but in the end he had known it was real. He had slowly come out of his reverie to the feel of her hand rubbing circles on his chest. Her soft voice shushing him, attempting to lull him back into sleep. He had fought to stay awake; nothing had felt better than the muffled cushiness of the pain killers combined with her warm touch, her soft voice. The feelings and emotions that emanated, unchecked straight from her heart.

He had wanted her stay. Wanted it so badly he had taken her hand back inside his, and placing it on his heart asked her to stay. He knew she would attribute this show of emotions to the narcotics. He had managed to once again get what he needed from her, just enough, but not too much. He could pretend he had never seen her, slept through the whole thing.

He had managed to keep himself away from her for five long years. Twice, he had almost caused irreversible damage. The first time was with the kiss. That stupid kiss. What the hell had he been thinking going to her house, after she had lost that baby? He knew damn well that she would be crying, needy, vulnerable, and unable to control herself. But it had been _him_ that needed controlling. He hadn't been able to resist her. At Least he had been able to stop himself at one kiss. But, Jesus, that had been hard as hell. Her hands had gone in his hair, on his neck; she had pulled at the bottom of his shirt. It had taken, everything, truly everything in his power to walk away.

And sure enough, that had been all she needed. She had wanted more. And he had pushed her away.

And then he had done it again. He had gone to her house in the middle of the night, but this time it hadn't been _her_ who felt defenseless and vulnerable, it had been him. Had he just kissed her again, or reached out to her in a more _physical_ way it would have been okay. He could have worked his way out of that one. But to lie in her arms like that and let himself come undone? There was no recovery, but one. He had to push her away and hard.

And, even with the way he had treated her afterwards. The unbelievably cruel remark that he had handpicked especially for the affect that it would have on her, she still couldn't hold herself back. Still couldn't keep from coming to him when he was hurt. Checking his leg, rubbing his chest. He had to stop thinking of how good it had felt, he was treading in very dangerous territory.

It was early morning when Wilson showed up. He had brought with him a change of clothes and some toiletries from House's apartment. He stopped to check in at the nurse's station, and checked the chart before going into his friend's room.

"Is he up yet?" He asked absentmindedly as he flipped through the chart.

"He's been drifting in and out. We aren't exactly anxious to go in and check on him." Replied the shift nurse sarcastically.

"Dr Cuddy was in last night?!" He questioned raising his eyebrows. And before the nurse could answer he had slipped inside the door.

House was up; albeit the early hour, and the rough past few days, he was up. The bed was inclined, the TV was on without any volume, and the shades were still drawn. His eyes were open, and staring absently at the screen.

"Morning." Said Wilson approaching the bed.

"Hey, Morning." Replied his friend, then looking his way "Watcha got ?"

"Oh, I went by your place." Wilson lifted the bag to show it to House before dumping it on the chair besides the bed. "Got some of your stuff, figured you wouldn't want to be going home in your Johnny." He smiled.

House smiled back. "No, I wouldn't."

"So, how's the leg? " He asked approaching the bed "Any more pain or…"

"No, it feels fucking dandy." House answered shifting his eyes back to the TV screen.

Wilson was silent. His fingers tapped on the side of the bed. House shut his eyes and stretched his head all the way back before continuing. "Look, Cameron was just in here, woke me up, messed with my leg, and asked me a million questions." He opened his eyes and turned to face his friend. "You know I'm not a morning person."

"Is this an apology or…."

"An explanation." House cut him off. "I don't do apologies."

"Oh yes." Wilson replied. "Speaking of apologies, I saw from the chart that Cuddy was in." He paused for effect "Did _she_ deserve an apology?"

"Nope." House answered nonchalantly. "Didn't deserve one, didn't get one. In fact I didn't even know she was here."

"Bullshit." Wilson mumbled under his breath. "You know she's in the room when you're calling in from out of town for Christ sake. What are you two covering up?"

House smirked. "Hey, that only happened once. Maybe twice. There's nothing to cover."

"Then why was she so upset with you." Wilson pushed.

"She's always upset with me. " He replied.

"Not like this." Wilson continued "And besides, you know I can go up and get it out of her myself. "

"Don't" House opened his eyes again and fixed them on his friend. "Don't be a shit, just drop it."

"Tell me."

"Drop it" Growled House

"Tell me and I will." Wilson folded his arms across his chest showing that he wouldn't budge physically or metaphorically.

"God" Greg groaned running a hand through his hair before opening his eyes to fix them on his friend. "Why are you such a pain in my ass?"

"Right now," Wilson smiled "I'm the only 'pain in the ass' you have. So cough it up? What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything to her," House continued, having given up hope that Wilson would drop it. "Look after the funeral, I went by her house."

Wilson's eyes opened wide. "Jesus, did you sleep with her?"

"No!" House practically shouted "Yes and no."

Wilsons eyes stayed fixed on his, his mouth hung open.

House stared at the TV. "I was _upset_ about Kutner. I ended up at her house. I _slept_ in her bed. Nothing happened."

"What?! You slept in Cuddy's bed and you held out on me?" His friend asked in disbelief.

"Well," House smirked. "This is exactly why. And besides, like I said…nothing happened."

"You're leaving something out." Wilson narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "House, you are leaving something out. Why is she so upset?"

House inhaled deeply, and then turned to stare at his friend. "I'll tell you. But then seriously, you gotta drop it. I'm in no mood." Wilson nodded and he continued. "You know how Cuddy is, about…well…me, she got the wrong idea." He closed his eyes again "She came by my office yesterday, to make sense of what had happened, and I…I told her to get lost. She stormed out crying. I stormed off and crashed my bike." He turned and looked at his friend "You know the rest."

"House, you are such an ass." Wilson said, enunciating every word for emphasis. "Why did tell her to 'get lost'?"

House stared at him. "You said you would drop it."

Wilson shook his head. "I just think it's about time that the two of you…"

"DROP IT!" House repeated

They had a brief stare down, then Wilson dropped his eyes, and tapping his fingers on the bed whispered, "She's crazy about you, and…"

House grabbed the call button, "Do I need to get you thrown out?"

"And, you're crazy about her so…"

House rang the call button, and then threw the whole apparatus at his friend. "Drop it." He repeated. "And get out."

Wilson ducked, running towards the door. "I'll bring you back some real coffee." He shouted over his shoulder, and he was out the door before the nurses even made it in.

_***PING PING PING !!! Keep reviews coming please !! Plenty of Cuddy interaction in the next chapter !_


	8. Chapter 8

_***Thanks again for the great reviews! Hope I'm getting these chapters up quick enough!_

_Chapter 8_

Wilson chuckled to himself as he approached the nurse's station, a coffee in one hand and a bag containing a bagel in the other. About an hour had passed since House had flung the entire call button at his head, and he smiled again remembering the frustration in his friend's eyes, and the line of questioning that had led to his "assault." To his surprise Dr Cuddy was leaning against the desk, flipping through House's chart.

"Ahem!" Wilson cleared his throat, as he approached the desk, "Dr Cuddy," he smiled "I didn't expect to see _you_ here."

She straightened her stance immediately and began tapping her pen against the file. "And why not?" She answered firmly, "No matter how much of an ass he is, Dr House is a department head of this hospital, _my_ _hospital_. I have every intention of making sure, that all of the proper precautions have been taken before his discharge."

Wilson raised his hands, and shook his head lightly from side to side, "Easy, easy, I didn't mean to give you a hard time Cuddy, Dr Cuddy. I just….well, how is he? He seems fine right? I doubt he will want to spend another night."

She looked at him hard in the face, in no mood for jokes, "Whether he feels like it or not, if there is a medical reason, Dr House, _will_ remain in this hospital, until, I see fit to discharge him." Then, realizing that she was taking her hard mood out on Wilson, Cuddy smiled softly and lowered her voice. "And, no, I don't think he needs to stay another night, but because of his leg…James, I don't want to take any chances."

He looked up at her and returned her smile, "I didn't intend anything with that comment Lisa, it's just that Cameron had already checked on him, and I saw you had signed off last night." He continued, "Of course we would take every…"

"No, no, James I overreacted, " she said placing hand on his forearm, "my nerves are shot, between Kutner's death, and now House, I haven't had a decent night's sleep in god knows." She looked at the coffee, and brown bag in his hand "are those for House?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wilson shrugged sheepishly, "well, despite the fact that he chucked the call button at my head, I thought a good cup of coffee, and a fresh bagel would improve his mood."

She smiled and shook her head from side to side, then reaching out a hand she said "I can take those in to him if you want, I'm going to take a quick look at his leg before I sign the discharge papers."

Wilson, was free all morning, but he quickly handed her the bag and coffee, "Thank you," he said, picking the chart of the desk and helping her tuck it under her free arm, "I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork, and besides…" he added with a grin as he headed down the hall, "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

House was sitting up in bed, flicking aimlessly through the channels on the TV. Where the hell was Wilson with his coffee anyway, he had promised him a cup at least an hour ago.

There were two quick knocks on the door, and House shouted out without bothering to look up, "It's about time Wilson, what did you do go to Columbia?"

"No, Sumatra." Answered Cuddy cheekily as she walked through the door, letting it close behind her.

"Oh, Cuddy… I was expecting Wilson." He muttered feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the prospect of facing her, after everything that had recently passed between them.

"Well," she said putting the coffee and bagel down in front of him. "You got me instead."

He wrapped his fingers around the coffee cup, and looked up at her. "Thanks for the goods." He said taking the top off the coffee and bringing it to his lips.

"It was Wilsons doing actually, he stopped by here to drop it off on the way to the ER; apparently some angry patient threw a call button at his head." She smiled at him coyly. "Know anything about that?"

"Yeah right" He smirked, his eyes locking on hers from the edge of the cup, "I missed him by at least an inch."

They were silent for a minute, his eyes on hers as he took two long sips. Both of them knowing that they were avoiding the many different feelings that had arisen between them in the past 48 hours.

"Well, seriously Greg," she asked breaking the silence with a tone that was both serious and soft. "How are you feeling, how's the leg?" she picked up the chart and began to slowly go through it, "Cameron was concerned about the prospect of clotting, but…"

"There's not going to be any clotting. "He cut her off. "Cameron's an overcautious idiot." He said looking away.

Cuddy pressed her lips together in a straight line. "Dr Cameron's hardly an idiot. And besides I don't think it's overcautious to take certain precautions when it comes to your leg, we're dealing with a pre-existing condition, and…"

"And nothing," he said blankly, staring at the TV. "The precautions should have been taken five years ago, then I'd have enough tissue left in my leg for us to worry about clotting."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Knowing full well that she was not going to enter a discussion concerning his leg now, not today. Not with her raw frayed nerves.

"Greg," she replied softly. "Every precaution was taken then, and I want to ensure that they are taken now." She paused briefly allowing him time to smirk, before continuing "I saw that a scan was preformed and revealed no abnormalities," she continued "all your stats are looking great. I would like to perform an exam myself before signing the release forms."

He remained silent. Sipping his coffee and watching the TV screen. Great, he thought, now Cuddy had to paw his fucking leg.

"Thanks but no thanks" he answered wryly, still not looking at her.

"That wasn't a question, "she said reaching for a pair of gloves "It was a statement."

Knowing that there was no fighting her; that regardless of how uncomfortable this exam was sure to be, it would be far more humiliating to actually deny her, and request another doctor. He decided to bypass all the arguing, and attempt to play it cool.

"Well," he said placing his coffee cup down on the tray, "you got a pretty good look at my battered soul," he reached down and pulled the sheet and blanket to the side, "now you can have a look at my battered leg." He snapped sarcastically.

His hand reached the edge of his hospital robe than stopped, he looked up at her beneath narrowing eyes "Do you want to do the honors? "He asked

"Oh calm down Greg," she exclaimed under her breath, "I'm here under medical pretense for Christ sake. Now cut the whining."

His eyes remained locked on hers as she reached towards the edge of his robe, carefully folding it back to reveal only his thigh and hip. "Here, hold this." She said handing him the fabric, and, giving him the excuse to place his hand over his groin in order to avoid any embarrassment from the possible stirrings that might occur as she felt around his thigh and hip.

His leg looked a lot worse this morning than it had last night she thought. The passage of time had allowed the bruise to turn a deep purple, almost black. The darkness seeped under the edge of his scar, and slight striations of discoloring were showing under the marred skin.

"Cameron changed your dressing today?" she asked pulling up the edge of the bandage and peering underneath.

"Yes" he answered.

"It looks good, how's the pain on that?"

"Manageable." He pulled his eyes off hers to stare blankly at the ceiling.

"Ok, I'm going to have a look at the tissue around your thigh," she said "let me know if I'm hurting you or causing any discomfort."

"You are causing me discomfort now." He replied

"Greg," she sighed, knowing he felt a great deal of _discomfort_ having her examining his leg, or any other part of him for that matter. "I meant _physical_ discomfort."

She reached out and gently grazed the skin over his scar with her fingertips. He flinched and shut his eyes. Slowly she began to palpate the skin around the edges feeling for any small bumps that could be indicative of an underlying clot.

"Owe." He said blankly

"I'm sorry." She answered "Look, I know you don't feel comfortable having anyone look at your leg, but I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't absolutely think…"

"I don't feel comfortable having _you_ looking at my leg." He cut her off, keeping his eyes still closed and his words steady.

"Oh." She raised her hand. "If you're uncomfortable because of me Greg," she said feeling quite flustered herself "let me call someone else." She began reaching for the sheet.

"Just finish the fucking exam Cuddy." He said opening his eyes and fixing them straight on hers. "The quicker you finish, the quicker you sign off."

"Okay" she replied taking a deep breath and picking up where she left off, gently probing the bruised area in search of anything that could raise a red flag.

"Owe." He repeated "I know you're pissed at me, but take it easy will ya?

"I'm sorry." She said "I'll be more gentle." She continued the exam silently and quickly. "I would never _hurt_ _you_ on purpose" she said under her breath, "because I was pissed at you, which by the way , I no longer am."

"Neither would I." he answered gazing directly at her, willing her to look up.

"Oh, really?" She said raising an eye brow and looking up before reaching for the sheet and pulling it over him. "You're done" she declared pulling off the gloves.

"Not on purpose." He mumbled.

"Greg" she said turning around to face him, "Everything you do, you do on purpose."

"Well, I don't mean to." He said closing his eyes. Already irate at how this conversation was sure to end up.

"You don't mean to what?" she asked conversationally, using all of her efforts to keep her voice from escalating as much as her pulse had. "Don't mean, to say incredibly cruel and heartless things every time you feel like you let me get a little too close to you?" She had picked up the chart and began scrawling her signature on all of the release forms.

"Jesus," he said closing his eyes "Cuddy, don't do this."

"I'm sorry" she said slamming the chart down on the tray in front of him "I don't _mean_ to be doing this right now either, but I am, and whether I do it on _purpose_ or not, the outcome is still the same."

"The outcome between us is always the same." He said raising his voice. "It's been the same for 5 fucking years."

"It doesn't have to be." She replied coldly. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"What do you want Cuddy?" He asked staring her straight in the eye. "You want me to say I'm sorry. You think that's going to change _our_ outcome?" His eyes were unwavering; an intrusion boring deeper, and deeper into her, managing with every second that passed to make her come slightly more unraveled. "Fine," he scoffed, blinking slowly. _"Sorry."_

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for." She snapped, turning around and heading towards the door.

"Lisa," he called out "wait,"

She stopped, and turned on her heal. Her eyes fixed on his. She waited, waited for him to say something, anything. She wasn't going to give in to him. Not so soon after having made her steely resolve. Even though he heart was ready to betray her, she pressed her lips together and stood firm, her hand on the door knob.

The seconds seemed to turn to hours for House. His eyes were still locked on hers. His heart was pounding inside his chest. He found that he could barely breathe. His mind moved rapidly through every possible outcome. There were so many. So may outcomes. So many apologies to make for his behavior. He opened his mouth than closed it again. "I…."

Cuddy broke the stare; she shook her head lightly from side to side and opened the door. "House," she said under her breath, "You're discharged."

****Ping Ping Ping ! I love working on this short piece! Stay with me and keep those wonderful reviews coming!!


	9. Chapter 9

***Okay, another chapter. A good one I think. And, ahem…what happened to my reviews ?? Only 5 last time. So sad !

_Chapter 9_

It was late in the afternoon and Dr House was sitting in his darkened office. He had gone up there to think after having been discharged from Cuddy. He wasn't ready to face his apartment. He hadn't been there in three days, and besides, Wilson was still working, and he was not about to take a cab.

He leaned back in his chair, in the semi darkened room and played the same game over and over with his oversized ball. He held it in his hand, and then deftly tried to turn his hand over, rolling the ball down the back of his hand, and over his fingertips before catching it again in his palm, most of the time the ball fell, and bounced on his desk. He would pick it up and try again.

He smiled thinking of Kutner, who had seen him doing this once, and without any restraint had smiled and reached out and grabbed the ball, his ball. "Check it out." He had said with a goofy grin rolling the ball smoothly up the back of his hand, and letting it almost rest on his finger tips before catching it. "Cool huh?"

He had snatched the ball back, and frowned. "Gimmee that back!" he had said in mock anger.

"I was into magic as a kid." Kutner had continued.

"Gee, what a surprise. "He had replied sarcastically "now beat it. Go find something to do."

"Shit!" House said aloud. Why the hell had Kutner done it? He rocked back in his chair, he had pulled the blinds in his office, and it was pleasantly dim. He opened his drawer and pulled that small stack of pictures out again, and placed them on his desk, then he continued trying to master the ball trick.

Suddenly the lights came on in the conference room and Lisa Cuddy walked in. She held a stack of files in her arms and she walked briskly towards his darkened office.

"Hey," he whispered, alerting her to his presence as she walked in, trying not to frighten her.

"Jesus, "she said jumping lightly, "you startled me."

"I was trying not to." He replied staring at her, "It _is_ my office."

She placed the files on his desk, then reached down with a hand and smoothed her jacket, a small nervous gesture; she had been doing for as long as he had known her. "I just stopped by to drop off these incomplete files." She said "They need your signature."

He nodded and continued playing with the ball.

She looked down at him, and noticed he was in scrubs. "Leg hurt too much for pants?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he replied "Wilson brought me some loose jeans, but they still hurt like hell going over my hip."

"It'll take a few days." She said, knowing he knew that, he _was_ a doctor. "Do you want me to change your dressing before you go?" she asked.

He broke his gaze on the tennis ball to look up at her. She was too damn nice, all the time. "I can do it later, at home…..thanks"

She stood there for a moment in the dim room, pressing her lips together in a line, and rubbing her finger back and forth across the edge of his desk. "Your team will be back on Monday." She said

He nodded

"It's going to be hard without him." She continued "He's going to be sorely missed."

He looked up at her and saw that she was staring down at the stack of pictures on his desk. In this light, from his angle he could tell that she was wrecked; despite all the makeup he could see the huge bags and puffiness around her beautiful eyes.

Shit, he thought, between me and Kutner we really did a number on her.

She stepped towards the side of his desk and leaned her butt against it, almost sitting. "Did you know that he baby sat for me once?" she asked a dreamy quality in her voice.

"What, who?" House leaned forward and held the ball in his hand.

"Lawrence, "she answered shaking her head as if snapping herself out of a memory. "Kutner, He babysat Rachel." She smiled and shook her head from side to side "He was always so nervous around me, I thought he was going to have a heart attack when he picked up the phone and heard my voice on the other end, but he agreed to it, and came right over."

"What?" repeated House "Kutner?"

"Yes, Kutner, "she replied looking at House, still smiling. "I had a fund raiser, and my Nanny called in at the last minute with the Flu. I knew James would be attending, so I didn't know who to call, I was about to call a service and then I remembered that Kutner had offered. And …. Before I could even stop myself, I picked up the phone and called him."

"You could have called me." He said looking up.

"Right." She answered smiling "I'll jot that down on my mental clipboard. Anyhow, he was so sweet. When I came home he was watching some goofy space movie on TV, Rachel was in her crib, he had the monitor on, and a pizza box on his lap. As soon as I came in he sat up and it was all 'Dr Cuddy', he refused to call me Lisa. He left with the pizza box under his arm."

House looked up in time to see her eyes start to fill with tears "He was just very sweet." She finished.

House looked at her silently. He could see that she was trying to control the tears. She brought her arm up, and placed a hand on her forehead. "Oh Greg, "she sighed "how could we have missed all the signs?"

"Don't do this to yourself Cuddy." He replied "My team was with him every single day, and …no one knew. NO ONE knew."

She leaned into her hand and the tears started flowing. He could see her curve her shoulders into herself. And she began to shake softly.

Shit, he thought pushing himself up from his chair. This is exactly what he had done to her, but she had been readily available with more comfort than he had been able to handle.

He walked over to her and lifted one arm, awkwardly placing it on her shoulder. "Lisa," he whispered. She shook her head. "Come here." He said and pulled her into his chest. He placed one arm on her back and kept one at his side, trying to avoid a full embrace, afraid of what it could lead to. "Shhhh" he said as he patted her back.

"It's just such a terrible loss." She said between silent sobs.

This time House raised his other hand and moved it to her hair, softly patting it. "We're all going to miss him." He whispered.

His arms felt so good around her; the warm solid strength of them anchoring her, at a time when she was coming undone. Her head leaned up against his chest, and she slowly fought to regain control of her emotions.

"House," she said "pulling herself from his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was going to fall apart like this."

"Are you okay?" he asked, moving his arms to her shoulders.

"Yes." She answered. "I'm okay" she affirmed, pulling herself completely out of his grasp, and looking around his desk for a tissue.

He reached around, and grabbed the box holding it in front of him, "Cameron," he said shrugging, "back on the team for one week, and she replenishes everything."

Cuddy smiled as she took a couple of tissues and began dabbing her eyes. "I've been too busy sticking to the role of administrator to do any grieving myself," she said as an explanation. "I've spent so much time speaking to his colleges and arranging grief counselors, and shift coverage for time off…. And then having _you_ wind up in the ER."

"Well," he looked up, meeting her watery gaze with a solid one of his own. "You didn't need to waste any time worrying about me."

She laughed under her breath, "I know I didn't _need_ to, but I did. I _always_ do."

House took a deep breath, and with incredible effort pulled his gaze off hers. He stared down at the ground between them. "I know you do," he said in little more than a whisper, then smiling, he added "but you shouldn't. I'm an ass, and most of the time, I don't deserve it."

"No, you definitely don't deserve it," she answered smiling, "And, just because you are an ass. A _huge_ ass doesn't mean that I'll stop worrying about you. I wish I could, but it's not that easy."

He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows, leaning on the desk in front of her, "Besides, if you were _that_ worried you would have come down to the ER and checked on me."

"You are absolutely impossible" she said shaking her head from side to side, "just because I wasn't physically in the ER 'checking on you' doesn't mean that I wasn't completely aware of your condition at all times."

"Ahhh yes, Wilson," he smirked "the eyes and ears of this institution."

She laughed, and leaned on the desk besides him, glad that for once in the past 48 hrs all the awkwardness and hostility between them had faded away. "He certainly is," she agreed. "But, what makes you so sure that I didn't come down and check on you at all?" she continued, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know" he said shrugging again "Could you have come and checked on me later in the day? Like when I was sleeping perhaps? Or in a morphine coma?"

"House?" she asked warily, turning to face him.

"What?" he answered widening his eyes "I was asleep!"

She brought a hand up and covered her eyes "You were awake!" she accused.

"I was not." He answered, "That is, until you woke me up."

"You are really an undeniable ass." She said shaking her head, and fighting to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"I was glad that you stopped by." He said looking down at the floor, and bumping her slightly with his shoulder.

She exhaled loudly "I was so angry with you Greg."

"I know you were." He admitted "I was surprised that you came at all."

"Believe me," she said, turning to face him. "I was surprised too."

He turned to face her, thinking that he should just apologize. He should just stare into those swollen, red rimmed watery eyes and say it. He should say it, and mean it, and take her into his arms and kiss her until she knew just how much he did care about her. But, shit…he was scared. Scared that if he did indeed say he was sorry that is exactly what would happen. It would be a kiss. And this time, after having spent a night, albeit a platonic one, in her bed, in her arms there was no way that he would be able to stop at just one kiss. There would be another and another and another, and nothing would stop him. Except for, himself. He would stop himself. And he did.

"I asked you to stay." He said instead. Hoping it would be enough; enough to get forgiveness, but not enough to drive her into his arms.

"I did stay." She said softly, "for a little while."

"Not long enough." He mumbled under his breath, raising his eyes to meet hers.

She was surprised, stunned. Her heart pounded in her chest. She closed her eyes, knowing that all it would take right now to push her over the cliff would be one kiss. And though he had admitted to wanting her then, she needed to know that he would keep wanting her. That it wouldn't be just a one night stand, something to keep the grief at bay and nothing more.

"I needed to go." She said putting her hands on the desk on either side of her butt and pushing herself off. "_I need to go_."

She turned and stood in front of him, placing a hand on his thigh, his good thigh, "Do you have a ride home tonight?" she asked softly, gazing into his blue eyes; cursing herself, for having been so steadfast.

"Wilson." He replied, his eyes still locked on hers.

"Goodnight Greg." She smiled giving his thigh a mall pat.

He reached forward and took her hand in his, giving it a slight squeeze before releasing it. "Goodnight Lisa."

She smiled and headed out the door, pausing briefly to look over her shoulder "Call me if you need me." She said as she disappeared down the hall.

**** I couldn't exactly have them hooking up in the office could I ? :) Keep those reviews coming. Come on, it only takes a minute to bring me so much joy !!! PING :)


	10. Chapter 10

_*** Another chapter !!! Sorry it took so long, I was so distraught after Mon night's episode !! Thanks for all the reviews, and thanks for the answers to my poll !!_

_Chapter 10_

He had been home for 24 hours, 24 long, boring sleepless hours. Wilson had driven him here yesterday. He had helped him clean up some of the empty beers that had been strewn around the apartment since the day he had found out about Kutner's death. Together they had ordered and eaten some Thai food in front of the TV, and then under the assurance that he would get some rest, lay off the booze and pills, and that he would absolutely, positively change his dressings he had left.

House had limped to the window and pulled back the shade. "Wilson is so predictable" he had said, watching as his friend picked up his cell, and made a call before he had even reached his car. "Probably calling Cuddy" he had grumbled before returning to his spot on the couch and opening another beer.

Now he stood in front to his bathroom mirror and looked at his reflection.24 hrs had passed and he had broken every promise that he had made to his friend. And, man he looked like absolute shit. A man his age really couldn't miss days on end of steady sleep. He looked pale. His eyes were bloodshot. His beard was growing in grey. And the wrinkles on his face had deepened to form two long furrows running on either side of his mouth.

He turned on the water and splashed his face a few times, then he ran his wet fingers through his hair and stood up facing the mirror once again. "Alright, alright"he said to his reflection, "Better get going before you lose your nerve."

It was well after 8, and he stood in front of Cuddy's door. He raised his hand to knock, then lowered it again and brought it to his side. What the fuck am I doing here, he thought. I can't just show up at her house, at whatever time. He hadn't even bothered to check, but he was sure it would be an inconvenience to her, not that he would ever have let that stop him in the past, but in light of the happenings of the past few days.

Ohh fuck, why did he have to be such an ass to her in the first place, he thought. To have needed her once was okay, a forgivable offense, but now twice… He raised his hand again, made a fist and held it poised in front of the door. He pressed his lips together, stared down at his feet, and with a grimace knocked, twice.

Almost immediately he heard shuffling behind the door, and then it opened and he stood there facing Lisa Cuddy with a baby in her arms.

"House ?" she asked, shifting the baby to her hip so that she could reach out and grasp his arm, "House come in, what's wrong ?" she asked warily, looking at his scrubs "Is it your leg ?"

He looked up, meeting her gaze "No, no…hey, look, I didn't know you would have Rachel…I…I'm gonna go…"

"Greg" she said pulling him in towards the house "I always have Rachel, come on, come in."

He stepped inside the door, and stood in the hallway awkwardly looking down. "I…ahhhh"

"Come in, "Cuddy repeated "All the way in, and shut the door, I've got to get Rachel down…"

"Listen," he interrupted "I'm just going to hed out. You're busy and…"

She turned around to face him "House, come in, I was just about to put her down. She had a late nap and," She gazed down at the baby in her arms and smiled widely "right sweet girl, are you ready for bed?" The baby cooed and gurgled . "You can wait in the living room…unless you want to help?" she added looking up with a sly grin "you know, to learn the routine for when I ask you to 'babysit'." She finished.

"Very funny." He said under his breath, "calling my bluff huh?"

She looked over her shoulder at him as she headed into the kitchen, "There's beer in the fridge, and wine" she called out before reappearing with a bottle in her hand "I'll be back in a few, you can help yourself."

She disappeared down the hall mumbling softly to her child, who cooed with delight at her mother's voice.

Why the hell did I come here he thought. It's so different coming into this house when there's a baby around. Now he felt like an intruder, not just into Cuddy's space, which after all he quite enjoyed doing, but into a totally foreign Cuddy, a Cuddy who padded around in bare feet and yoga pants with a baby on her hip. A Cuddy with no makeup on, and her long dark curls tucked absently behind her ear. This was a Cuddy who beamed with happiness, and whispered sweetly inside her baby's ear. This was a Cuddy he didn't know, who lived in a world he knew nothing about. He stood self-consciously in the living room, wondering how annoyed she would be if he just headed out the door.

He didn't have much time to consider, because within a few minutes he could hear her coming back down the hall.

"That was quick." He said under his breath.

"Well," she answered as she ran a hand through her thick dark curls "let's hope." She paused to look at him. "What's wrong?"

He looked down at the floor, and tapped his cane softly. "Nothing's wrong. I just…I can't sleep." He said softly.

"House," she smiled "it's not even 9 o'clock; I'd be surprised if you _could_ sleep at this time."

"What I meant is" he paused and looked up to meet her eyes "That I haven't been able to sleep since I left the hospital."

She raised her eyebrows "Not at all?"

"Well," he answered still looking at her, "barely. I mean barely since Kutner did himself in."

"Wow, Greg" she approached him and rested her hand on his forearm "do you want me to write out a…"

"I slept the night that I came here." He said softly, "and the night at the hospital, but then…" His voice trailed off.

"But then you went back home, and you've been awake since…since the night before last?" she finished with alarm. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I should have called." He answered "I shouldn't have come over, you've got your hands full, and the last thing…"

"I meant you should have called me _last_ night." She interjected. "And since when do you care about how busy I am? It seems like the more I have on my plate, the more you enjoy disrupting me." She added with a smile.

"True." He said scratching the side of his head absently "I guess the kid just threw me."

"The kid has a name. It's Rachel. And she was here the last time you came over too. She's _always_ here, because she _lives_ here. And if I had her in bed by 6 every night I would hardly get to see her. So, "she continued, "other than the insomnia, how has the leg been? Any more pain? Stiffness, signs of clotting?"

"Legs fine," he said limping over towards the couch. "Hurts. As usual. Nothing new."

"Have you been taking care of the dressing?" she continued.

"Yeah, yeah." He answered plopping on the couch. "Dressings all set."

She walked towards him and sat on the ottoman directly across from him, and inhaled deeply, making a face. "Have you had anything to eat other than…beer?"

"You don't actually eat beer." He replied sarcastically, "I mean I know you're out of practice with all the _fun stuff_, but beer is still in liquid form these days. "

She smiled shaking her head softly. "Take off your coat," she said standing up again "I'll go warm up some left-over's for you."

"You don't have to do that." He called out as she headed into the kitchen.

"I know, I know," she said over her shoulder. "You're an ass, and you don't deserve it."

House, took his coat off, and settled in on the couch. He had regretted coming here at first, but now he was glad that he had. Cuddy was always there for him. Even though he treated her like crap most of the time, she was always able to dish it right back at him. And when she got too pissed off, well she always seemed to have the ability to reboot. When it came to him, she had a bottomless well of tolerance. Was it so wrong for him to want to be around that?

"Here you go," she said walking in with a plate in one hand, and a napkin and fork in the other. "Ravioli."

"You cook?" he asked, reaching for the plate and grinning, "one surprise after another tonight."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "Wine or beer?"

"Beer," he answered, taking a bite. "Please. This is good. Thanks."

She came back in, and handed him a beer, then sat next to him on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand, looking at him expectantly.

"I'm just surprised." He continued "that you're being so nice to me. You know, _usually_ you get annoyed when I drop in."

She laughed. "You are _usually_ annoying as hell when you 'drop in'. You are _usually_ begging me to let you perform some outrageous , unnecessary medical procedure, or you are trying to break up _whatever_ date I'm on, because for _whatever_ reason, you are never happy with _anyone_ I chose to date."

He laughed for the first time in a long while. "You date the biggest losers Cuddy."

"I do not!" she answered in mock anger. "I date nice guys, steady guys, solid guys."

"Oh _please_," he answered taking a big gulp of his beer, "you date boring mama's boys, that you'll have no trouble bossing around."

"Ha!" she answered, laughing herself "Beets _anyone_ you date. At least my dates don't need to be paid up front!"

"Ouch!" he said "That was low Cuddy, even for you, that was low."

"Even for me." She repeated.

"Usually you don't like going below the belt." he said raising an eye brow and looking at her.

She met his stare with a cool one of her own. "Don't worry about me _big_ _guy_," she answered "I have no problem going below your belt."

"Well then!" he said taking another sip of is beer.

"Well then." She repeated, sipping her wine and looking at him above the rim of the glass. "House," she asked without breaking their gaze "why did you come here tonight?"

"Well," he said loudly, taking the final sip of his beer and placing it on the floor. "I wanted to know if I could sleep here tonight.'

She raised her eyebrows and did not say a word.

"It's the last good night of sleep I've gotten." He continued. "I'm fucking wrecked Cuddy."

"You get the couch." She said getting up, and looking him deep in the eyes. Trying to figure out if this was just one of his games, or, if like the other night he was actually attempting, in his way, to ask for help. "I'll go check on Rachel, and get you some blankets" she continued, heading down the hall.

House finished the rest of the ravioli, and was standing plate in hand when she walked back into the living room with a stack in her arms. "Let me make up the couch for you" she said, "And _you_ can go change those dressing in my bathroom."

He laughed softly under his breath "how did you know?" he asked looking at her across the room.

"Oh how could I not?" she answered "Apart from the fact that I'm sure you've done nothing other than drink beer and pop pills for the past 24 hours, I can actually see that the bandage on your arm is completely adhered to your abrasion. I will let you sleep here." She said as she began laying a sheet across the couch, "but I will not let you neglect your injuries."

"Oh come on mom!" he whined.

"The supplies are in the bathroom" she replied without looking up. "The couch will be ready when you're done."

He stared at her briefly, and tapped his cane softly on the ground. Watching as she bent over the couch, spreading the sheets, and tucking them in, making a bed for him; allowing him into her home, bringing him dinner, making his bed. Actions she took without even thinking. Caring, that flowed out of her unrepressed. He turned around and quietly headed down the hall.

It took about half an hour for House to change both his dressings. It had hurt like hell. Both bandages had been completely attached to his abrasions. He hadn't changed or even looked at the dressings since he had left the hospital, and tonight he assured himself that he would never go that route again.

Getting himself cleaned up and ready had taken longer than he thought, and he had been surprised to find Cuddy, still waiting in the dimly lit room, sitting up, and cross legged on the overstuffed chair, reading book, a cup of tea in her hand.

Damn, he thought, pausing in the doorway. She was more beautiful like that, after a whole day of playing nurse maid and nanny to a wailing infant than she was all made up and dressed up at work. She reminded him of how she had looked 20 yrs ago in Michigan. Even back then, always curled up in some type of sweat pants, a cup of tea in one hand a book in another, her long curls half tucked behind one ear. It was this look, this warm, cozy, yet incredibly sexy look that had drawn him to her twenty years ago, and had kept him hooked for the past five years.

Feeling his gaze on her she looked up mid sip. "What?" she asked "you're staring."

He laughed softly under his breath. "You look like you used to at Michigan." He said softly "for a minute I felt like I was walking into the library again."

"I wish," she answered putting the book on her lap "you really _must_ be sleep deprived."

He walked in and stood by sofa. "Never one to take a compliment." He said.

"Never one to give a compliment," she replied smiling, "not without an ulterior motive anyway," she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You are NOT sleeping in my bed." She continued laughing softly, knowing full well that the comment had not been intended to lure her into his arms, but rather had been a rare, atypical compliment by House.

"Cuddy," he protested jokingly "I'll never fall asleep on this couch."

"House, you've been up for two days. You've been drinking, popping pills, and god knows what, believe me, you'll fall asleep." She said.

"Can I come bug you if I don't." He smiled wickedly.

"No, you can absolutely NOT come and bug me," she answered getting up and heading to sit on the edge of the couch besides him. "Scoot over "she said.

She looked down at him, in a t-shirt and scrubs lying on her sofa. His huge blue eyes exhausted but intently fixed on hers. The dim light, shooting shadows across his features, and making him look incredibly vulnerable. She looked down, and knowing she shouldn't, knowing she should just get up and leave, go down the hall, to her own room, her own bed. Lock herself in and throw away the key. She looked down and instead of doing any of those things she picked up her hand and laid it softly on his chest.

He looked up at her and smiled, reaching his hand over hers and placing both above his heart. She could feel his warmth and the beating of his heart beneath her palm. "This is what put me to sleep the other night." He said softly.

"The morphine is what put you to sleep the other night." She replied smiling.

"Well," he chuckled "that too. But really," he continued looking directly into her eyes, "this feels nice."

"Greg," she said hesitantly, attempting to pull her hand out from under his, "I should go to bed."

He squeezed her hand and kept it pressed against his heart "Cuddy," he said softly, "the other day in my office, when I said I didn't care about you…"

She stared down at him, and swallowed hard "yes?" she whispered.

"I was lying." He continued, looking away, but keeping even steady pressure on her hand. "I do care about you. Always." He finished, shifting his gaze back to her.

"I know." She whispered staring down at him and throwing the last bit of resolve she had out the window. "I know," she repeated as she brought her other hand up into his hair and bent down to kiss him.

_Wow, this was a tough chapter to write !! Let me know if you liked it. More Huddy Lovin' to come !! Keep reviews comming please !!!!! PING !_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter!!! Just went back to work, had to sort out a nanny, busy, busy busy. But also, I wrote another whole version of Chapter 11 which I hated. (Still have it, and might change and make a one shot later) So this is it. Hope you like it!_

Chapter 11

She kissed him once softly, then pulled back and gazed down at him with those incredibly soft eyes. She smiled then leaned in again and kissed him harder. Her lips parted, and her tongue slipped tentatively into his mouth. That was all he could stand. He pulled himself up to sitting position and wrapped his arms around her back. He deepened the kiss, his mouth hungrily taking every bit of her in.

"House" she said softly putting her hand on his chest and pushing him softly down on the pillows. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight?!" he asked sitting back up and grabbing her hand.

"Yes," she answered smiling and shaking her head as she got up from the couch and headed across the room.

"Jesus Cuddy!" he groaned falling back onto the pillows and rubbing both his hand through his short scruffy hair. "That was one hell of a goodnight kiss."

Cuddy turned around and smiled, "Goodnight House," she repeated before heading down the hallway and into her room.

She stepped into her room and shut the door leaning her back against it and catching her breath. He had done this to her too she thought, the night that she had lost Joy. He had come to her house, found her crying on the living room floor, and he had kissed her. He had pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a kiss that that had turned her inside out. She had tried to fight it for a second, but his warmth, his taste, his smell, she had succumb to him. She had returned his kiss, and wrapped herself around him, with a fervor and need that had been beyond her control. And just like that, just like it had started he had pulled himself from her grasp, looked into her eyes, said goodnight and walked away. He had left her stunned, dizzy, and yearning. Yearning for more, yearning for all of him.

She hadn't walked away tonight to return the favor she thought, as she headed across her room and started undressing for bed. She had walked away, because she knew that if the kiss had deepened any further, she would not have had the strength to stop it. And this time, she wasn't sure he would want to.

Slipping into her her nightgown, Cuddy shook her head unable to believe that she had not had enough determination to resist kissing him in the first place. But seeing him, with those deep blue eyes, tired and worn, lying on her couch. It would have taken a Saint to resist him. She laughed softly to herself as she headed to the bathroom to wash up; at least she had had enough strength to stop herself before doing something that they would both regret.

Back in the living room, on the couch, Dr House lay on his back with both his hands behind his head. It had taken him a couple of minutes to get his heart and his breathing back under control after Cuddy had left, but now he felt pretty relaxed. The kiss had nearly done him in. Sure, he had kissed her before. He had walked across the room and grabbed her and given her a kiss so hot and searing that he practically had to drag himself out of her arms before self combusting, but this had been different.

To be laying in bed and have Lisa Cuddy looking over him like an angel, her hand rubbing soft warm circles on his chest; her eyes looking down at his, blinking slower and slower as she closed in and put her lips on his. He closed his eyes and smiled. Jesus, a kiss like that was almost more than he could handle. Leave it to Cuddy he thought, to put all of her heart and soul into a kiss that was both so tender, and so sexy that it had the power to bring him to his knees. "Touché'" he said softly under his breath, remembering the night that he had walked away from her. "Touché', but now the ball's in my court," he smiled flipping back the blankets and sitting up, "and the night is still young."

House had sat in the darkened living room and waited. He had listened to her walk across the hall to the bathroom; had listened to the sounds of water being turned on and off, the soft hum of an electric toothbrush, the silent padding across the hall, and finally the click of her door as it closed.

He had sat up, unable to sleep, with his back against the couch cushions and his eyes shut. Who the hell could sleep after a kiss like that anyway, he had thought. No one, and especially not him, a regular insomniac, and someone who had barely been able to sleep a wink since Kutner had died. As far as goodnight kisses went, that one had been the kiss of death. He was wide awake now, and his mind was ready to embark on the "hamster wheel" again. Only this time it wasn't a case he was solving, and it wasn't Kutner (thank God) this time it was going around and around and around Lisa Cuddy.

What did she mean? Why did she do it? Why did she stop? What did she want? How much did she want? How did she feel? How could it work? Was she awake? Did she want him to go to her? Did she want him at all? Aughhh!! What did she want? What did she want? Fuck, he knew what she wanted. She wanted him. But, how much did she want? How much would she accept?

It was fucking torturous, when his mind thought, it thought hard, so hard it hurt. And right now, his brain and his leg, and his heart for that matter were all throbbing with equal intensity. He reached for the vicodin bottle on the night stand, opened it and popped two before getting on his feet, and hobbling down the hallway.

He stood in front of her door, and raised his fist in the air, holding it poised momentarily in the air as he gathered very ounce of courage that he had. And then he knocked. "Cuddy?" he whispered.

"Go away"he heard from a muffled voice behind the door.

"Cuddy," he continued, placing his hand on the door knob "I'm coming in."

"House" she whispered as he pushed the door open. "It's the middle of the night."

He limped forward and stood by the side of her bed.

She looked at him in the darkened room, his shadow being thrown across the bed by the nightlight in the hallway, and scooted over, curling on her side to face him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and leaned his chin on his cane. "Hey" he whispered.

"Hey" she answered, lifting a hand and placing it tentatively on his knee.

"I couldn't sleep, he said without looking at her "and you said I could come and bug you."

"No," she sighed, "I distinctively said you could _not_ come and bug me."

"Oops" he said turning to face her.

"House," she whispered reaching a hand and turning her clock so that she could read it, "its one thirty in the morning."

"Can I lay down in here with you?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

"What? No!" she answered "you cannot lay in my bed with me! Are you out of your mind?"

"Geez Cuddy," he whispered tapping his cane softly on the ground "don't act so horrified, _you_ asked _me_ to the other night."

She placed a hand on her forehead. "You needed me the other night."

"I need you now" he answered quickly, boring his eyes into hers.

"You don't need me" she laughed softly "You just want to lie in here."

"I need both," he said pushing himself up, "I need you, and your bed…come on Cuddy" he continued limping to the other side of the bed, "I can't sleep out there."

She rolled over onto her back. "Greg," she whispered up to the ceiling "you and I both know that this is not a good idea."

"It's a great idea." He said pulling back the covers and standing over them. "I promise I'll stay on my side; there won't be so much as a stray foot on your side of the bed." He continued, staring down at the bed.

"You aren't going to leave are you?' she asked

He looked at her and shrugged.

"I know I'm going to regret this…" she sighed "and, I'm serious when I say…"

"I know, I know" he whispered getting into the bed and pulling the covers up. "Hands to myself."

They lay silently in bed for a few moments; him on his back, and her on her side facing away from him. Both listened to each other's breathing, both wondering what would happen next.

"Hey Cuddy," he whispered smiling up at the ceiling. "Remember the way you rubbed my chest at the hospital? That might actually help me fall asleep."

"You might actually _be_ asleep already" she chuckled softly, "because if you think I'm going to do that you are definitely dreaming."

"Come on," he pleaded sarcastically, "you didn't mind doing it the other night."

"The other night you were in the hospital." She answered back, "_On a morphine IV_, you barely knew what was going on."

"I knew you were there," he answered quietly, "and I liked it."

Cuddy closed her eyes and tried to even out her breathing and her heart beat. Having him in her bed was proving to be a mistake.

"Cuddy," he whispered again "I can't lie facing you, my right leg…."

"Good!" she exclaimed under her breath, "Go to sleep!"

"You're mean!" he whined sarcastically "I want to look at you."

"Jesus House," she said getting up quickly, knowing that it would be absolutely pointless to argue with him. She walked across to his side of the bed and he looked up at her grinning sheepishly before scooting backwards, and reaching to fold the blankets back for her. She got in quickly and lay on her side facing him. "Better?" she asked as she reached out a hand and placed it on his waist. "Now will you shut up and go to sleep?"

"Much better, "he answered reaching down and placing his hand over hers, "now how about another one of those goodnight kisses?" He asked softly

"Greg" she said gently.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. "Cuddy," he whispered under his breath as he placed his lips on hers. He kissed her once, then a second time opening his mouth and devouring hers; his hands running up and down her back, to the back of her neck, his fingers reaching to tangle themselves into her thick dark curls.

"Greg," she moaned softly, reaching under his t-shirt and running her hands over his kissing him passionately as she pulled it over his head.

She pulled herself out of the kiss for a moment to look at him in the darkened room. His big well defined shoulders, his broad chest with its dense sprinkling of light brown hair. His intense brooding eyes fixed on hers, his mouth in a small relaxed smile.

"You're turn Lisa" he whispered as he reached down to pull her Teddy up and over her head.

He lay on his side looking at her. She had one arm draped over his shoulder, and the other one held shyly across her chest. Her eyes were happy, smiling and full of longing. Her lips were parted slightly."Jesus" he said out loud, she was beautiful. And after so many years of wanting, of denying, of repressing, he had finally gotten what he wanted all along. Lisa Cuddy.

"What?" she asked, self consciously holding her arm tighter up against her chest.

He reached out and took her wrist in his hand, gently pulling her arm away, and placing her hand on his chest, over his heart. His eyes never left her eyes. As much as he wanted to look down, to ogle the breasts he had been dreaming of for the past five years. He kept his eyes fixed on hers and said, "Jesus Cuddy, you are so beautiful."

She closed her eyes and smiled shyly, trying to squirm herself under the sheets "Greg," she whispered "You're probably going to get lucky tonight regardless of the compliments."

He leaned in close and kissed her softly, before pulling back "am I really going to get lucky tonight?" He asked with a grin.

"I think so," she answered into his mouth.

He smiled against her lips, slipping his tongue slowly into her mouth, "You mean luckier than this?" he asked.

She smiled again and bit his lower lip softly "Much, much luckier" she said as she reached down to pull the tie of his scrubs.

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_Thanks for reading. Sorry, couldn't "smuttify" , want to keep my rating. Hope you all liked it. And please, please, please review. I have been having PING PING PING detox !!!!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks again for the great reviews. Wow, it's been getting a liitle harder to post, now that I'm back at work, but I promise, The next couple of chapters will come up quick. Then sadly, it may be time for this story to reach it's end. PS does anyone know how to add spaces in between paragraphs ?_

_**Chapter 12**_

**_xoxoxoxo_**

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, reaching out and holding her around the waist. "Where are you going?"

She had been laying half on top of him, but figured that undoubtedly he would need his space to sleep.

"I was just going to give you some room," she whispered, continuing to move away. "I didn't take you for the cuddling type."

"I'm not." He said, keeping his hold around her waist. "I'm just….I'm a…I'm cold."

She leaned up on one elbow and looked at him genuinely concerned, "Do you need an extra blanket?" she asked.

"No, I…Jesus Cuddy," he sighed throwing his head back in exasperation. "You're going to make this hard for me, aren't you?"

She smiled and leaned forward, kissing him tenderly on the lips. "Ohh, come to think of it, I don't have any extra blankets, I'll just have to keep you warm myself." She said laying back down against his side.

He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her close up against his chest. "Body heat." He said with a small smile.

She laughed softly and kissed his chest. "I'm glad that I can help keep you warm Dr House, how's this?" she asked, tucking herself under his arm and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Hmmm," he answered "better, much better."

"Better huh?" she repeated coyly reaching her free hand on his chest and rubbing it in the soft circular motion he liked so much.

"Lees," he whispered "this is getting better by the minute."

_"See_," she laughed softly, "There are definite pros to cuddling."

"Not cuddling" he answered pulling her closer and kissing her on the top of her head. "Just keeping warm."

She leaned in and kissed his chest again. "I can't believe we finally did it." She said softly.

He laughed a little. "What do you mean _finally_?"

"Oh _please_," she teased, "You know we both wanted this for a long time."

He looked down at her. In the darkened room, he could only see the softened shadows of her face. She looked incredibly relaxed and happy snuggled into his side. She looked, she looked, well, she looked exactly how he felt actually. He toyed with the idea of giving his usual sharp, sarcastic comeback, but for once decided against it. Instead he gave her a small squeeze, "Well, I know _I_ sure as hell wanted this for a long time, but I didn't know about you."

"Oh you knew," she said yawning softly. "You were just….being you."

"_Being_ _me_?" he asked in mock alarm "what's that supposed to…"

"Shhhh," she kissed him softly on the lips and snuggled deeply into his arms. "I don't want to argue, I want to sleep."

"I don't want to argue either," he insisted "I just…"

"I had an amazing night Greg." She whispered "Don't ruin it."

"Hey," he looked down "what's that supposed to…"

"Goodnight House," she said as she closed her eyes, letting her hand trace slower and slower circles on his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, and feeling his strong heavy arms around her. "Mmmm," she moaned softly before she fell asleep.

**xoxoxo**

Wow, he thought to himself '_amazing'_ huh? Tonight had been amazing indeed, who would have thought that Lisa Cuddy had it in her to be so passionate. Of course, he had slept with her before, but that had been more than 20 yrs ago. She had been a freshman in college, a child really. By the time he met her he had four years of college and two years of med school under his belt, she had been in, way, way over her head.

But not tonight, she had been his match in every way. He smiled remembering how her hand had reached down and undone his scrubs for him. A silent, but certain way to let him know, that yes she wanted him as much as he wanted her. How on earth a woman could go from being so shy, to so completely uninhibited he did not know. But tonight had been unmitigated proof that Cuddy herself had mastered that ability. And she had been so incredible, so passionate. Her hands and her lips had been capable of more than he had ever imagined possible, and believe me, in five years he had imagined quite a bit.

And her body, God, her body was unbelievable. Her skin was so smooth and taught he would have thought he was making love to a twenty year old, not a woman over forty. And 'making love??' When was the last time he had used that expression? Maybe with Stacy, in the very beginning, but even then it had never been like tonight.

Tonight had been a jumble of lips and tongues, and silky thighs and breasts. A jumble of everything he had wanted so badly for so long; of Lisa Cuddy finally wanting him as much as he wanted her. He smiled thinking back on the moment they had both stopped in the midst of everything, and looked directly into each other's eyes, wanting to be certain of the next step. The look that passed between them lasting only a second but conveying so much. He had smiled, and she in return had leaned up to kiss him, her hand sliding down his back to rest gently on his ass, where she gave a gentle nudge, a silent urging to continue.

He leaned closer to her and rested his chin on her head. Nothing could have beaten tonight; the look of concern as she had gently wrapped her legs around him, whispering, "Greg, your leg?" Even during the height of passion, she was always putting him first. "What leg?" he had responded, and soft laughter had tumbled out of her mouth and into his. Or, hearing the name "Greg" escaping from her lips in the form of a soft breathy moan had been enough to nearly send him over the edge.

Tonight had been truly "_amazing_". He had never felt anything like that before. It was as if everything he had kept inside of him for the past five years didn't fit anymore. The walls that he had built so carefully around his heart were starting to crumble. And just like that, just like a break in the dam everything, everything, came tumbling out. And that emotional rush, combined with the intense physical rush of his orgasm had nearly overtaken him.

And now, after all of the post coital bliss, after the chatting, and the "snuggling", Cuddy was sound asleep, cuddled up against him, and he was wide awake. Wide awake and terrified, terrified of the forces that had overtaken him, and practically melted him into her arms. Terrified and hoping, that she hadn't noticed.

What was he supposed to do tomorrow? Wake up and work himself into their day? Give the baby a bottle, go to the park, play dad to some kid that was neither his nor hers? Try to insert himself into a life where he didn't fit and didn't belong? And what about Monday, was he supposed to go back to work and pretend this whole past week had never taken place. Was he supposed to continue barging into her office, forcing her into uncompromising work situations, driving her mercilessly to her breaking point, while all along remembering how she had felt in his arms tonight ? Aughhh, why did she have to have a kid? Why did she have to be his boss?

He inhaled deeply and thought about leaving. Leaving this house in the middle of the night and acting like his usual asinine self when he saw her at work. Hell, he had crushed her before and there was really no reason why he couldn't do it again. Well actually there was a reason, a pretty big reason, this time crushing her, would crush him as well. And besides, he thought, burrowing himself deeper into her arms, the thought of leaving this bed, and her arms and heading into his cold dark apartment seemed pretty miserable. And the thought of her waking up and finding the bed empty, facing the realization that he was indeed a bigger ass than she could have possibly ever imagined, was even more unbearable.

He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to repeat the events of last night over and over. He wanted to be able to face what he was feeling. He didn't have to make a mystery out of it. There was no puzzle to solve really. He had feelings, strong feelings. He didn't want to put a name on them, he didn't want to use a label, he simply wanted to be able to accept them, to accept them without running away, neither physically, nor emotionally.

With all these thoughts racing through his mind, a staggering fort-eight hours awake, and one incredibly hot and exertive night of passion behind him; Greg House let himself succumb to the warmth and comfort of Cuddy's arms, and the sweet gentle pull of sleep.

**xoxoxox**

"Greg," she whispered, sitting on the bed beside him. She was dressed and ready to go, Rachel sitting on her lap facing the sleeping man.

She had gotten up early this morning, carefully extricating herself from his grasp, wanting to be ready to get Rachel as soon a she woke up. She was sure that a wakeup call from a sleeping baby would be more than he could handle this morning.

She had, in fact been overjoyed and surprised to find him sound asleep, still wrapped around her this morning. She had expected House to be as passionate as he had been, but never in a million years had she expected the post coital chit-chat and cuddling that had occurred. And to find him still holding her tightly by morning had been the biggest shock yet.

She had dressed quickly, wishing she had time for a shower, but not wanting to risk missing Rachel's awakening. She looked in the mirror and smiled as she thought about the events of the past night. She went to pull her hair up into a pony tail and reconsidered; blushing deeply when she saw the red mark he had left on her neck, and remembered the exact moment when he had put it there.

She had turned and leaned up against the sink. Last night _had_ been truly _amazing_. He had been every bit of what she had remembered and expected; passionate, skilled, and virile, but also, surprisingly sweet and gentle; combining a tenderness and affection to his repertoire that had nearly taken her breath away.

How she wished that she could crawl back in bed and into his arms and wait for him to wake up. Or, she thought with a mischievous smile; give him a wakeup call he would not easily forget. Either way, what she had wanted this morning was to lie in his arms, snuggling, laughing, and making love; not awaiting Rachel's awakening, knowing that getting herself and her baby out of the house, was a necessary damage control maneuver.

And now, a cup of coffee and a stressful hour later, she sat on the edge of the bed attempting to wake him up.

"Greg," she repeated softly, reaching a hand out and rubbing it through his hair. "Wake up."

He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes finding himself face to face with a squirming baby.

"Cuddy?" he groaned. The baby looked down and upon seeing his eyes opening, squealed in delight and kicked her feet back and forth.

"Cuddy are you torturing me?" he asked, his voice still scratchy from sleep.

She looked down at him and laughed softly, bringing her hand to rest on his stubbly cheek. "I'm taking Rachel out to the park," she said tilting his face so that he could look up into her eyes. "There's coffee in the kitchen…we'll see you when we get back?"

Damn it, she thought getting up and heading down the hall, she had turned the statement into a question. She wasn't asking him to be there when she got back. She was expecting it, wanting it, needing it.

**xoxoxo**

House rolled over onto his back and scrubbed his face with his hands, listening to the sounds of Cuddy and baby, heading down the hall. He waited until he heard the front door open and shut. Then slowly he began to sit up, easing his battered leg over to the side of the bed. He fished around for his scrubs and t-shirt, and gently eased his leg inside them as he hurried to dress himself so he could head into the living room, and to his vicodin.

Two pills and a quick cup of coffee later, he was sitting in his car and heading home. He hadn't ditched her, he thought. Not yet. He needed to shower, needed to change, to eat, to play his piano, to see his stuff. He needed to wrap his head around what had happened. He needed to wrap his head around what should happen next. After only one night, he realized, he already needed space.

**xoxoxo**

****_PING-PING-PING !! Keep the reviews comming !! As I said before "the reviews are my muse !" Also....end it, or keep it going ? Perhaps a book 2 ?? Let me know your thoughts. **********_


	13. Chapter 13

_***Okay, here we go with another chapter !! Trying to get them up as fast as I can !! Hope you like it ._

_Chapter 13_

Dr House turned the key and pushed open the door to his apartment. "Ahhh, home" he said aloud as he walked inside. Pausing in the living room and taking a moment to look round and take in the beauty of all his "stuff". His piano, his guitars, his shelves and books, his paintings and art, his volumes of medical journals, his leather couch, his antique medical equipment, the things he had spent years collecting. The things he turned to for comfort, when others turned to family and friends.

"I'm home" he said to his belongings, smiling, at his little inside joke, as he limped slowly into his bedroom. There he flopped down on his comfortable mattress and folded his hands behind his neck. It was nice to be back inside of his own space. Over the years, once Stacy had moved out, he had let very few people into his private abode. Just Wilson really, and that had been fun, once he had gotten over the learning curve; the learning curve of what it was like to compromise a little, to share your space.

Cuddy had a nice place. Everything was perfect, and just so. It was bright and comfortable. And she was always trying to make it better. Just wait till that baby starts crawling he thought laughing to himself, Cuddy's little perfect world is going to be flipped upside down.

He shut his eyes and shook his head, what the hell was he doing thinking about "_that_ _baby_" to begin with? She was the deal breaker. I mean Cuddy, Cuddy was a mom. Babies, don't just disappear, or stop bugging you once you accept them. They're there forever. A lifetime of caring. A lifetime of commitment. He shook his head again. Why the hell had Cuddy done that to herself he thought? Saddled herself with a kid. As if she didn't have enough on her plate running a major hospital.

He pulled his arms out from behind his head and scrubbed his face with his fingers, trying to push Cuddy out of his mind. Ahhh, the images of her that kept popping up were too much to andle. Her long white neck as she arched her head back in the throws of passion, the way she moaned out his name and gripped his shoulders, the way she looked so deeply into his eyes, the way she did everything.

He sat up, and smiled pulling his t-shirt off, better to jump in the shower he thought, as he undid his scrubs and kicked them off. These memories were making him steam up, and he needed to get himself cooled off before things got out of hand. Jesus, he thought as he headed into the bathroom, one night with Cuddy and I'm a horny teenager again.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

After showering, and trimming his beard, House sat on the edge of his tub and opened up his towel to take a look at his leg. He had left the bandage on during the shower because the friction of last night's action, even though Cuddy had been extremely careful, had managed to adhere part of the bandage to his wound again, and he had been hoping the warm water would loosen it up. Carefully he peeled back the bandage and grimaced in pain. He fished through the bag of supplies that Wilson had brought him when he dropped him off and re-dressed both his arm and his leg. In his room he managed to put on boxers and a pair of very old, very loose, army green pants and a fresh t-shirt.

He looked better, He looked good actually. Like himself again. The most like himself that he had looked since learning of Kutner's death. He stared into his own eyes in the mirror and smiled, "welcome back," he said. It was good to see himself again and good to feel clean, to be rested and dressed, and scrubbed. But there was more, he thought, as he padded barefoot down his hallway whistling to himself, there was something else, some nagging sensation that something with him was different, completely different.

What the hell is wrong with me, he thought as he padded along, trading the whistling for singing "clang, clang, clang went the trolley, ding, ding, ding, went the bell, zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings…"

"House!!!" the shout was accompanied by pounding on the door. And not only did it interrupt his singing, it damn near gave him a heart attack. "House!" the pounding continued.

"Oh Jesus Christ" he muttered as he approached the door "Calm down Wilson!" he shouted as he opened the door on his near frantic friend. "Calm down!"

"_Calm_ _down_?" asked Wilson incredulously "_Calm_ _down_? House, where the hell have you been?"

"What?" House asked as he headed back into the living room and flopped down on the couch, leaving his friend at the door. "What's the problem Jimmy?"

"The problem _Greg_," Wilson shouted as he slammed the door and marched across the room "Is that I've been calling both your phones for the past 48 fucking hours and you've neglected to pick up on either of them!! I, I, I though…."

"You thought what?" House looked up grinning "You thought I was dead? OD'd from pain, grief, boredom? You thought I was hurt, comatose, indisposed?"

Wilson looked at him and squinted his eyes suspiciously. "Where have you been House?" he asked slowly and carefully.

House laughed, "Jesus, chill out Wilson, I was…"

"You slept with her!" Wilson announced. "You _slept_ with her didn't you?"

"Slept with who? No! " House answered shaking his head, yet unable to wipe the grin from his face.

"You dog!" Wilson continued, "You slept with Cuddy, didn't you?"

"What? No…Wilson…I…" He shook his head smirking.

"My God House! You slept with Cuddy and you're holding out?" he said, sitting next to his friend on the couch.

"I'm not holding out Wilson, "House frowned "I didn't sleep with Cuddy, I…"

"Oh man," Wilson continued "I can't wait for the detailed report on this one."

"There's not going to be any report," House said "because, there's nothing to report."

"Just admit it House" Wilson laughed, "I mean, you're fucking 'glowing'".

"Am not!" frowned House.

"You are!" he teased.

"Wilson," House said turning to face his friend "In about a minute your ass is gonna be glowing from me kicking it so hard! Cut the shit!"

"Ohhhhh, just admit it!" He insisted, smiling.

"Fine," said House under his breath, staring down at his feet for a moment before looking up and meeting Wilsons eyes with his own, "I slept with Cuddy."

"Wow!" exclaimed Wilson under his breath, "Wow, wow, wow! What happened? "

"Don't expect any details 'Gossip Girl" House snarked at his friend, "Cause you aren't getting any."

"Well," smirked Wilson, "Somebody's smitten!"

"Yeah, "growled House, "And somebody's about to get there ass kicked!"

Wilson laughed, and reached out to pat his friend on the back. "Congratulations my friend, after five long years of pining away you finally got Cuddy!"

"Fuck off, asshole" House grumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have told you. And besides I was NOT pining away."

"Oh come on, come on," Wilson continued "I was just having a little fun. But I'm done now. Honestly." He looked at House and held both his hands up, palms up as if in an oath. "I'm happy for you. You look great !! So," he looked at House expectantly "What happened?"

House inhaled deeply and shrugged, "I basically stopped sleeping once I got home. I made it through the first night, and then I went to Cuddy's." He paused and looked down at his feet. "The night of Kutner's funeral, I slept at her place, and it was the last good night I had gotten, so….I went there."

"And?" Wilson urged

"And, she made me dinner, made up the couch…." He paused and looked up staring his friend in the eye, "And then, we….wound up together."

"On the couch?!" Wilson remarked incredulously.

"In her bed." House answered.

"Wow!" Wilson repeated, shaking his head "Amazing!"

"That's what she said." House said, unable to suppress a grin.

Wilson laughed and leaned his head back on the couch. "I don't want any details….but, you got to give me something," he said turning his head to look at his friend.

House closed his eyes for a minute. He didn't want to give Wilson one single minute image of what Cuddy had been like. Every single one of those memories was his and his alone to re-live. But then again, he knew Wilson could be like a fucking Jack Russell with a tennis ball. He had to give him something. "She, is incredibly passionate." He said, without opening his eyes.

"Oh my God!!" groaned Wilson. "Wow, wow."

They sat quietly for a minute, side by side, and then Wilson turned to face his friend. "What are you doing here?" he asked "You didn't skip out on her did you?"

"No," House, shrugged and lifted a hand to rub his eyes. "She woke me up this morning as she was heading out with the kid, and I…"

"You mean Rachel?" Wilson interrupted.

"Yeah, obviously, that's the only kid she's got. They went out, I came home." He finished.

"So," Wilson pried, "You heading back?"

Here comes the fucking Jack Russell, thought House, and he was the dammed ball. "Don't know." He answered.

"Don't know?" Wilson imitated. "Is she expecting you back?"

"Jesus, you're a pain in the ass." House remarked. "I came home because I needed some space, not so I could deal with you mom!"

"I just don't want you to fuck things up, House, that's all." Wilson replied holding one hand up, "I mean this is _huge_."

"I know." House ran a hand through his hair. "I know it's huge. I know all about it. I just….I just need some space."

"_Space_?" laughed Wilson, "You slept there one night!"

House shrugged "It was a pretty intense night."

"It was a pretty _intense_ week I" Wilson continued, "Kutner, then your accident, and now Cuddy."

House inhaled deeply then turned to face his friend. "She has a _baby_." He said. "Cuddy's a mom."

"Yeah, no kidding House." Wilson said leaning his head back. "So?"

"So everything." House responded bringing a hand up to massage his forehead. "I mean, I can't deal with a kid."

"Oh God, don't do this." Wilson sat up and turned to face his friend. "Do NOT fuck this up because of Rachel. Do NOT be such a self-centered ass!"

He turned to face his friend "Do you honestly think that I could deal with having a baby around?" He asked evenly.

Wilson stared him in the eye. "I think that Cuddy has wanted this baby for a very long time. And I think that she has wanted _you_ for an even longer time."

"That's not what I asked." House replied

"I think that you are using Rachel as an excuse to push Cuddy away." He answered pushing his fingertips together in front of him. "I think you avoid commitment, like the plague, I think…"

"Okay, you know what Wilson," House interrupted rudely, "I don't really give a shit what you think. _I_ _think_ that I just need to ….get my head together."

Wilson sized up his friend and the narrowed his eyes, "You know what I think?" he asked, not giving House a chance to answer, "I think you fell for Cuddy, and now you're to chicken to go back."

House laughed under his breath and stood up, "Well, you know what I think? "He countered "I think you're a fucking idiot." He said as he headed into his kitchen.

Wilson leapt up and followed behind him "How was the sex?" he asked suddenly

"Sex was great!" House answered with his head in the fridge.

"Did you piss her off?" Wilson asked carefully.

"Nope," House answered reaching in and grabbing a carton of Orange Juice, "For your information, I didn't piss her off."

"So," Wilson continued, "You had sex, great sex with Cuddy, CUDDY, you didn't piss her off, she wants you there….and you're here why? To clear your head and look at your stuff?"

"I'm here," House said lifting up the carton and pouring some down his throat, "So that I could get my brain drilled by you."

"You're here," Wilson said reaching out for the carton and taking a sip himself, "because last night _meant_ something, and you're walking away."

"I'm here," House answered, lifting up a hand and rubbing it through his short hair, "I'm here….because you're right." He finished, looking at the ground and avoiding his friend's eyes.

"Knew it," said Wilson smugly, taking another sip.

House leaned up with his back against the counter, and kept his eyes on the floor. "Last night was really, amazing," he said under his breath, "but…I don't know if I can get involved like that again." He peered up, and met Wilson's eyes dead on.

"House," Wilson answered shaking his head from side to side, "I would say, that after this past week, and after last night, you pretty much _are_ involved."

House chose his words carefully, "If…I don't go back..."

"If you don't go back," Wilson cut him off, "It's over…FOREVER."

House looked at him, and blinked slowly.

"You know it's true." Wilson said. "You've put her through the ringer this week, between Kutner's funeral and your accident." He laughed slightly, "Not to mention the past five years, hell the past _twenty_ years, I mean House if you walk away now…"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture" House mumbled, "You don't need to be such a drama queen." With that he pushed himself off the counter and headed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

"House!" Wilson called after him. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Packin' an overnight bag." He called out from over his shoulder as he headed into his room, once again singing the familiar tune, and smiling to himself, "zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings, from the moment I saw her I fell."

He had diagnosed himself. That nagging feeling that had been sticking around all morning, until that pain in the ass Wilson had shown up with all his nonsensical bullshit, that niggling feeling was a small almost insignificant spark of happiness. Happiness, and maybe something else, something he had been tamping down, every time he thought about Cuddy for the past five years.

XOOXOXO

_****Thanks for reading, hope you like it. Let me know, if you did...or didn't...you know...PING it !!! _


	14. Chapter 14

_****Thank you all for sticking with me as my postings have gotten slower and slower. Real life is kicking my ass right now!! Just a note, forgot to say…I did steal the trolley song in chap 13! So, okay…this is it, the LAST chapter to Breaking the Dam! Very tough, please enjoy. I will be taking a very short break to get all my deadlines under control and then I will start with part 2 of this story. *****_

_Chapter 14 _

Lisa Cuddy hummed softly headed down the street towards her house pushing Rachel in her stroller. She had spent two lovely hours at the park with her beautiful baby girl, letting her enjoy the sunshine, and the soft green grass. Pushing her on the swing and reveling in the joy of her daughter's laughter.

Actually, she was reveling in the joy of her memories of the previous night. Memories of Greg House, finally in her arms. This past week she had seen sides of him that he had kept hidden for far too long. At this stage, she had surely, been one of the few people who still believed that he had such a tender and caring side left inside of him. She was sure; that most people thought his emotions, as well as his heart had atrophied, from years left unused.

But, the death of Kutner, whom she believed all along, had been his favorite of the team had really rattled him. Maybe it had been an emotional overload; maybe it had been a final realization that life could be too brief. Whatever the reason had been, something had given him that final nudge towards her, and she was overjoyed.

She wasn't kidding herself. She knew that one night didn't necessarily change everything. But, something had changed inside him, and she was glad to have been a part of it.

Humming happily to Rachel and herself, she turned the corner towards her house, and her heart froze. The street was entirely empty. His car was gone. She slowed the stroller for a moment and tried to get herself under control. Her hands were shaking as she started walking again, this time more briskly and without the hum. Nothing, could keep her heart from catapulting into the pits of her stomach. And even though she had not even stepped into her front door, she knew exactly what she would find; an empty house and no note.

Sure enough as she pushed the stroller through the front door, she found herself facing a silence that on this day seemed overwhelming. This was the way her house always was, but on this day she had expected him to be there, she had wanted it so badly. She had envisioned the way he would be sprawled on her sofa watching the TV; or playing the upright piano in the corner of the living room. Maybe even still asleep in her bed, anything, anything but gone.

She picked up Rachel and walked quickly through the main rooms of the house. It was ridiculous of her, and she knew it; but she was hoping to find a note. Something, anything, but the cold abandonment she was left with.

"That bastard" she said out loud as she collapsed on the couch with Rachel in her lap. She was tired, exhausted in fact, and her nerves after this past week, were stretched to the max. Her emotions got the better of her, and even though she had Rachel kicking and cooing in her lap, she couldn't stop the tears from coming.

She placed her daughter down, sitting on the soft carpet at her feet, and layed some toys in front of her before doubling over and weeping into her hands. "Damn it! Damn it!" she said aloud as sob after sob wrenched itself from inside her. She had been left by men before, of course she had, but this was different. This time it hurt so much, she felt like throwing up, she felt like she was being turned inside out. "Why did I let him do this?" she asked herself as she cried and cried, waiting for some of the pain to subside.

She looked down to see her apple faced baby looking up at her, and giving her a gummy grin. She covered her forehead and tried to pull it together. She had slept with him, had sex with him, actually it had been way more than sex…they had made love. Well, at least she had thought so.

The way he had held her, and looked into her eyes, waiting for her approval before slowly pushing himself inside of her. The way he had kept his eyes locked on hers the entire time, wanting to make sure beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she had wanted him as much as he wanted her. Had she imagined all of that? Had she been simply a night of sex? A lay that he had wanted for so long, unfinished business from his Michigan days?

Or worst of all; had he sensed the love and need that had surely poured out of her, and had he been frightened out of his skin. Had he seen her as a needy, overworked single mother and simply turned on his heel; in no way willing or able to tie himself to someone like that.

Slowly, very slowly Lisa Cuddy slowly began to shrug off the grief and pull herself together. She had Rachel after all, someone who regardless of how sad she was, still needed to be fed and changed, and laid down for a nap. Whether Gregory House had used her or not, her child needed her, and she was a strong woman, a professional woman, who would bottle up her needs, and her pain, and her anger and move forward, like she had so many times when it came to him.

With these thoughts in her mind Cuddy found the way to trudge through her day. And though the pain was still there, she had managed to push it aside and get by. So through small, sporadic fits of tears she had put Rachel down for a nap, showered, dressed and gotten her up again, and was heading in to start dinner when she heard the knock at her door.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She opened the door, red rimmed eyes, and a squirming Rachel in her arms. "Go away House," she said flatly, as she made to slam the door.

House reached out and stopped it with one hand. "Hey, Cuddy, Hey." He stammered, dropping the overnight bag at his feet, and planting his cane firmly in the path of the door.

"House, go home" she repeated, leaning up against the half open door. "Just go home."

He stood still, facing her, his deep blue eyes narrowing as they searched her face, as they bore into her swollen red-rimmed eyes. "Cuddy, I…"

"You what?"She cut him off angrily, "you what? You decided that after all you did feel like having another night of sex? Or maybe what, screwing your boss just once wasn't enough for you? Or maybe what, what else, you needed comfort, needed to talk, to rest, to sleep?" Little by little her voice escalated, as he stood rooted to his spot, and as Rachel became slightly more and more agitated.

"You need to calm down." He replied softly, his eyes fixed on hers.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing a long loose strand behind her ear, "You need to get out!"

"We need to talk." He continued calmly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm tired of talking Greg!" she exclaimed, as a fresh batch of tears found its way to her eyes. "I'm done talking. I can't do this anymore." She looked at him, and then looked down at his feet, for the first time noticing the small duffel bag he had dropped when he blocked the door from slamming in his face.

He looked down at the bag, and smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "The one time I did the right thing" he said with a weak chuckle.

"Greg, I…" she shut her eyes and shifted the baby to her other side.

He raised his eyes, and rested them on hers for a second before looking down at his bag again. "Can I come in then?" he asked tapping the door with his cane,

Without waiting for an answer, he picked up his bag, scooted by her and headed into the living room, where he plopped comfortably on the couch, the bag at his feet.

Cuddy walked in behind him and leaned against the doorway, Rachel still in her arms. "You came back." She said simply.

"Told ya, you needed to calm down." He answered tersely.

"I didn't think you would come back." She said shaking her head from side to side, as she walked up and deposited Rachel inside her playpen. "When I came home, you were gone…so I figured."

'You figured?" He asked matter of factly.

"I figured it was a one night…..stand" She said uncomfortably as she came up and sat on the ottoman in front of him.

"Ahhh," he answered looking up "hence the tears."

"You're an ass." She mumbled.

"I'm an ass who didn't know a one night stand was even an option with you." He smiled.

"It's not!" she snapped.

"Hence the tears." He repeated

"Yes," she answered, finally looking him straight in the eye, "hence a lot of tears."

"Cuddy," he said softly "When are you gonna learn I am not worth crying over?"

She shook her head and brought her hand up to squeeze her eyes, trying to stop the tears that were starting to form again. "I don't know," she smiled "never? Or, maybe you could stop giving me a reason to cry."

"Ahhh," he said again "you know me better than that."

They both sat silently for a moment. One across from the other, him on the couch, her on the ottoman, both looking at their feet. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional squeals of delight coming from the playpen.

"Was last night a mistake?" Cuddy asked breaking the silence.

He tapped his cane on the floor, then looked up at her. "Not for me." He smiled.

"Sex is never a mistake for you." She smiled back.

"Lees," he laughed, tilting his head to the side. "It was more than just sex to me."

"Was it?" she answered, needing to make sure that he felt like she did.

"Well, for one it was fucking unbelievably good sex!" he smiled wickedly, waggling his eyebrows, before pausing to look directly into her beautiful grey eyes. "And, for seconds….it was you."

She laughed and reached out a hand intertwining her fingers with his, "After all these years…" she started.

"After all these years, you finally got me back in the sack!" He finished for her, giving her hand a slight squeeze, accompanied by a teasing smile.

"Oh, please." She replied coyly. "_You're_ the one who wanted me, you spent five _loooong_ years pining away and you finally made it."

"Hm," he replied "that's exactly what Wilson said."

"_Wilson_?!" she exclaimed pulling her hand out of his.

"Oops. "He smiled sheepishly as he squeezed her hand harder, refusing to let it go.

"You did NOT tell Wilson we slept together did you?" She asked firmly, pulling her hand free.

"It might have slipped out." He answered leaning back against her couch.

"House!" she practically shouted "How am I supposed to believe this meant something to you?? You run home and call Wilson within minutes of your big '_conquest'_!! How many lurid details did you and that, that, that weasel share??? You are an even bigger jack ass than I ever thought possible!"

House leaned forward and took both her hands in his pulling her forward. "Hey," he said in a soft yet firm voice, "Wilson was at my place this morning. He had been calling me nonstop, he was worried and he came by. _AND_, when he saw me smiling away and whistling Dixie, he kind of figured it out." He chuckled. "And besides, you haven't exactly been able to keep your feelings for me hidden very well."

"First of all," she replied snappily, "the only '_feelings'_ I have shown for you have been ones of sheer frustration, and second of all, I do NOT appreciate you discussing the details of MY sex life with Wilson" she added angrily.

"Well, _first_ of all," he countered "everybody knows that _you_ have been the one pinning away for me for the past …five years, and _second_," he let go of one her hands and gently cupped her face, tilting it up so that they could be eye to eye, "I would never divulge a single solitary detail of how you were with me to anyone…ever. Those memories are strictly for me to re-live." He paused, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply, "Ahhh," he added as he smiled smugly "I am in fact re-living a particularly good one right now."

"You are unbelievable!" she said pulling her hand free and smacking him on the shoulder. "So," she continued getting up and heading across the room to the playpen "I take it Wilson had something to do with you heading back here?"

"Maybe a little nudge," he conceded, "But not entirely…I knew what I wanted…I just…had some issues."

"Is she one of them?" she asked softly, leaning down to pick up Rachel out of the playpen.

"Not as long as you keep her in that cage for extended periods of time." He replied smiling.

"What is it about her that scares you so much?" She asked as she maneuvered her onto her hip.

"I never said I was scared." He answered simply

"What else?" she asked, as she sat on the sofa besides him, Rachel on her lap. "You said 'issues', so what else?"

He took a deep breath than turned to face her. "I'm not very good at commitment." He finished.

"Oh," she exhaled, shaking her head softly from side to side. "Good thing it's nothing major."

"Lees," he said snaking an arm around her back, "I'm here because I want to try."

She turned to face him, the man she had wanted for so long; the cold heartless bastard who had put her through the ringer more times than she could count. The tortured genius who had finally been able to find a tiny bit of light deep within his soul. She stared right into his deep blue eyes and asked him the one thing she needed to know.

"Greg," she asked softly "what do you want?"

He paused for a moment to take everything in. This could after all be the last moment of his old life. Life as he knew it, alone, unencumbered, uncommitted, _miserable_, but oddly content. He looked at Cuddy, beautiful, Cuddy, with her long loose curls framing her face. Her flawless perfect skin, Her gorgeous blue grey eyes, red rimmed and puffy from a day of crying, so full of emotion as they awaited his response. He looked at Rachel, a chubby gurgling baby, to him like so many others. Nothing more than an intrusion, a burden he would have to learn to accept.

Babies, a commitment, both of these were things he never thought he'd have. Never thought he'd want. But here he was, after so many years, face to face with the one thing he wanted more than anything he had ever wanted before. And he was willing to accept babies, and burdens, and just about anything as long as they came with Lisa Cuddy.

"I want you." He said looking her deep in the eyes, and leaning forward to press his lips against hers. "I want you."

The End

_****Thank you all for reading my short fiction. This return to writing has really been life altering for me!! As have been your reviews!! Please keep an eye out for part 2 of this fiction. I would love to keep it going!!******************_


	15. Chapter 15

_***After many months, and many attempts at writing another fiction which I liked as much as this one, I came back to my "old faithfull". I'm hoping the story didn't lose all its steam. The new season is so different. But I like writing these two back in season 5. Enjoy ! More to come! ***********_

_Chapter 15_

"This feels kind of, I don't know…so surreal." She said coming back into the living room after having put Rachel down for the night.

"Think so?" He answered nonchalantly, taking a sip from his beer.

"Yes, yes!" she answered smiling, "you here, us…what happened last night." She reached up and fidgeted with the pearls around her neck.

"Are you nervous?" he asked smiling and squinting his eyes as he searched hers for a clue as to what she was feeling.

"Yeah," she laughed "after how many years, and countless compromising situations that you have put me in, for some reason, I feel really…._nervous_."

"Don't be." He said standing up and walking towards her.

"Well, what are we supposed to do now?" she asked shrugging her shoulders. "Just what, try to co-exist? Have a civil conversation?"

"We could have sex?" He answered smiling and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Greg," she sighed shrugging his hand off, "I'm serious. I just…"

"Hey," he laughed reaching out to her again, "Hey, I was kidding." He put his hand on her shoulder and slowly started to rub it. "Cuddy relax."

She laughed again nervously. "I don't know why I feel so…"

"Come here," he whispered gruffly, pulling her into his arms. "This," he said, punctuating the word with a quick kiss on her lips "is exactly why we never went down this road."

Cuddy knew he was right. And she knew that no matter how much she wanted to be in his arms right now, she just couldn't, couldn't relax.

"Come sit on the couch." He said releasing her and limping over to her overstuffed sofa. "Come on," he smiled and patted the seat beside him.

She stood frozen in her spot, staring at him. "I need a cup of tea." She smiled. To relax.

"Would you grab me another beer?" he called out as she headed towards the kitchen. He leaned back and poured the remaining gulp of beer down his throat before reaching for the remote. He turned o the TV and flicked aimlessly through the channels. He had expected this to be awkward. But Jesus, nothing like this. Cuddy was a nervous wreck, and the only reason he was sticking around was to try and keep this from being even worst the next day, and besides he wanted to sleep with her again, and again, and again.

He heard the kettle whistling and within a minute she was in the doorway again. A beer in one hand a cup of tea in the other, a smile on her face. She walked over and sat beside him on the couch.

"I'm sorry." She said curling herself up beside him, the steaming tea cup cupped between both her hands. "I don't know why I feel like this."

House shut the TV off and turned to face her. "Do you want me to go?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No," she answered quickly, "No, I want you to stay."

He smiled and reached for his beer. "Good" he answered, as he brought it to his lips. "Because I had no intention of going"

Cuddy blew into her tea, and absentmindedly took small sips. After a few moments of silence she asked "when's the last time you changed that dressing?"

"Ahhh, again with the dressing. I changed it this morning…mom!" he answered.

She smiled; "let me check on it" Then paused before adding "make sure you did a good job."

He turned to look at her "why do you have to get all 'Doctor Cuddy' on me?"

"I don't get _all 'Dr Cuddy'_," she smiled raising an eyebrow, "I am _all 'Dr Cuddy_.'"

He fixed his eyes on hers, "My leg's fine."

"You need to change your dressing daily," she countered "you're a doctor, you know that."

"Exactly" he responded his voice even and measured, "Which is what I did, and I don't need you to check it."

She opened her mouth than closed it. She shook her head lightly, then blew softly into her tea, and took a few small sips before answering him. "Medicine makes me feel comfortable. It's my touchstone, I guess."

"Jesus," he exclaimed leaning his head back and throwing his arms wide apart over the back of the couch "am I making you _that_ uncomfortable?"

She was silent. The truth was, she was incredibly uncomfortable, she had basically bared her soul, and her everything to him in the past 24 hours, but that had been in the midst of chaos, internal chaos. But now, now that he was there, sitting beside her on the couch she felt like, like she didn't know how to behave.

"I'm the same me, the same ass, the same everything" he said with his eyes fixed on the ceiling "except for now we've _done it!"_ he finished turning to face her with an evil grin.

"You are an ass." She said shaking her head slightly and taking another sip of her tea.

He sat up and turned to face her "I am, " he said reaching out and taking the cup of tea out of her hands to rest it on the coffee table besides his beer, "but as I like to say, 'tonight I'm the only ass you've got' so come here." He reached his arms around her waist and pulled her over towards him.

She resisted slightly and then let herself be pulled into his arms. He leaned over and pecked her on the lips, once than twice, than his lips parted and he slid his tongue into her mouth. His hand ran up her back, over her neck and into her hair. They kissed for a minute or so, and then he pulled away, and looked at her, her big grey eyes were still closed and her cheeks were flushed, she was absolutely beautiful, and he wanted to make her feel relaxed. He inhaled deeply, and started to push himself up off the couch. This was going to suck.

"Come on Cuddy, "he mumbled under his breath, "I've got to check on this damned dressing, it hurt like hell this morning." He got to his feet and turned to face her, "can you give me a hand?" he asked before turning his back and limping towards the hallway.

She smiled and put her tea down on the coffee table, he was trying, really trying. She must have cast a spell on him she thought to herself, because this was House putting himself under the microscope to ease her frayed nerves. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, she padded down the hall behind him before he lost his nerve.

"Oh Greg," she sighed reaching out and tentatively touching the faded bruises that seeped in and around the edges of his scar.

"Cuddy…." He stiffened. He hated her near his scar, looking at it, touching it, anything.

"You made me so worried." She whispered shaking her head softly and placing her palm gently over the marred skin.

"Aughhh! Come on Cuddy!" He leaned his head back "you know better than to worry about me!"

She looked up at him, her lips pressed together in a firm line, her large grey eyes growing more watery by the minute. "And you know better than to think I'll stop worrying," she met his eyes and added softly, "especially about you."

"Just give me the stuff," he muttered looking down, uncomfortable at having been told; right there, at point blank range just how much she did care about him. "I'll change it myself." He reached out towards the sink, but her hands stopped his.

"I'll do it." She said firmly, snapping on a pair of latex gloves and reaching for the edge of his bandage, in one swift moved she pulled it off.

"Oww, shit!" he yelled, looking down at his thigh, and the red mark left by the bandage. "What the hell was that for?"

"Not such a softy am I?" she answered coyly, raising one eyebrow as she looked up at him

"Well, you didn't need to give me a leg waxing!" He rubbed the side of his leg.

"Stop being such a baby, it was hardly that bad" she sassed, "besides, why did you put the bandage over all that hair?"

"Ahhhh," he said as he kept rubbing, "My whole leg is like that!"

"That is why," she said reaching for a bottle of antiseptic, "at the hospital, _my_ hospital, they wrapped all the way around your leg, instead of taping across it." She looked up and smiled, reaching for a roll of gauze.

"Yeah, well, a clear waste of gauze." he answered looking into her eyes and shrugging.

"And besides," she continued, finishing with the gauze and getting an ace bandage, "I thought we wanted to keep some compression on this to avoid…"

"clots." He finished her sentence and put his hand over hers. "I'll take it from here." He whispered firmly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and, taking over the final parts of the bandaging without meeting her eyes.

She stood and peeling the gloves off leaned against the sink. "I was only trying to help." She said softly.

He finished the wrap and kept his eyes looking down. "I just don't like anyone near my leg." he mumbled.

She looked at his boxers and smiled, raising an eyebrow "You certainly don't seem to mind too much." She said shyly.

He looked down, and reached a hand grabbing at his crotch, to block both her view and his growth. "Jesus Cuddy!" he laughed.

She laughed with him and stepped forward, nudging herself in between his legs. "What?" she asked innocently, "I'm just saying you didn't seem to mind my hands in that _area_ too, too much." She rested both her hands on his shoulders, and rubbed her fingers across the stubble on his neck.

"For someone who was all nerves" he stated gruffly, reaching his hands up and resting them on her hips before looking up into her eyes, "You certainly got comfortable with your _surroundings_ pretty fast."

She looked down at him for a moment, happily registering the fact that she had made the impossible happen, a small trace of a flush had spread across his stubbly cheeks. His hair was scruffy and graying at the temples, he was in his boxers and a t-shirt. His bright blue eyes looked up and locked on hers. She could feel his hands resting warmly and firmly on her hips, as his thumbs rubbed small circles. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled every single trace of insecurity that had been inside her all evening.

He was here with her _now_, and she didn't think that she had ever in her entire life wanted a man more than she wanted him right then and there.

She raised her hands and ran them through his hair, all the while keeping her eyes focused on his. Then she leaned forward and slowly, so slowly pressed her lips on his. "I'm not nervous anymore." She whispered into his mouth in between kisses.

"I can tell." He answered back huskily as he slid his hands up her back, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss between them.

He could feel her smiling against his lips, and he swore that any minute his heart would explode right out of his chest. She pulled away and placed both hands on either side of his cheeks. "House," she said "I think it's time for bed."

With that she turned and took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

_****Wow, I must say this chapter was really hard . But in the end I loved it !!! I missed this story, and hope to pick it up if anyone is still onboard w/ me. So…you know what to do REVIEW !!*****_


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